


Flux

by Violets_Veil (MissKita)



Category: Compilation of Final Fantasy VII, Final Fantasy VII, Final Fantasy VII: Advent Children
Genre: Canon Compliant, Canon-Typical Violence, Cross-Posted on FanFiction.Net, Drama & Romance, F/M, Minor Violence, Post-Canon, Sexual Humor
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-09-13
Updated: 2015-09-13
Packaged: 2018-04-20 16:37:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 29,869
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4794629
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MissKita/pseuds/Violets_Veil
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Elena and Rufus ShinRa begin an ill-advised relationship. Soon, the world begins to fall apart around them as things fall apart between them. Can Elena handle a relationship with the man who they say has never cried or bled? And what about everything else?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. One of Those Weird Days

**Author's Note:**

> Flux is an ongoing fanfic near completion on Fanfiction.net. Read the next chapter and the complete fic at https://www.fanfiction.net/s/4048523/1/Flux 
> 
> Happy reading! :)

Reno and Rude finally invited me out to go drinking with them. We're at a bar in Midgar, one of those slightly shady dives that Reno seems to be fond of. Our table is at the back of the bar near a window that looks out onto an alley.

The people in the bar are avoiding us as much as possible, only the bravest giving furtive glances over their shoulders—and I just know it also has nothing to do with me. The new haircut was supposed to help, but I don't think it is enough to make me seem dangerous.

Even if the people around us aren't exactly certain that we're Turks, I think Reno and Rude inspire the right kind of respect—or fear. Rude alone, with the bald head, multiple ear piercings, sunglasses, and broad shouldered, muscular build beneath his inconspicuous-yet-totally-conspicuous ShinRa-issue black suit definitely would make a normal person think twice about approaching.

Rude is staring out of the window, his brow furrowed above those sunglasses. Funny, I don't feel intimidated by him at all. Even when we first met on my first day, I already knew I liked him. He was the one who had to help me get acquainted with the job—well as much as possible. As Tseng says: The real lessons happen in the field.

Then there's Reno, currently leaning back in his seat, working on his second glass of beer and fishing for something in his pocket—his cigarette lighter probably. Reno's different—he's as fit as any Turk would be but svelte. He has a way about him, his casual, unconcerned way that is just a little too unconcerned…a normal person wouldn't want to be cornered by him in a dark alley.

Good thing I'm not normal.

I grab for my half-empty glass of beer and take another sip. I worked at a bar years ago, in the slums no less, during an extreme, rebellious teenage phase, but I've never really warmed up to the taste of beer. I hate it, but they invited me out for drinks and so I'm gonna drink what they drink.

I'd rather Reno not make fun of me for getting a soda instead.

I had been waiting for them to ask me for the past several weeks. Reno'd only just stopped calling me "New Girl" and "Rookie" and was starting to call me by my real name. This might just be a positive step in the right direction.

"Hey guys?"

Reno looks at me from across the table with a lazy look on his face. Rude's still looking out of the window, but I think he's listening too.

"Um…can I ask you something?" I look away from Reno's strange blueish green eyes and stare into my glass. Why do I feel awkward? I'm around them all the time.

"You can ask us anything," Reno says. He picks up his glass and downs the remainder of it, then signals the bartender with a gesture. He's looking at me again. At least he's not mocking me right now.

I didn't know what to make of Reno the first time I met him. I was sure he hated me. I didn't meet him until his injuries from his encounter with Avalanche on the Sector 7 plates had healed enough for him to go back to active duty, and he didn't have much to say to me. I'm still not sure if how he feels about me, though he's a lot friendlier now.

Well, I guess he's being his version of friendly. He always has a new nickname for me every few weeks. I guess we're on better terms since he only rarely calls me "Rookie" these days, and he only called me "Academy Girl" and "Academy Turk" or "Textbook Turk" for a few weeks.

"Do you think Tseng hates me?" I ask.

"What?"

"I mean, so far I've really made him look bad. He chose me to be a Turk for whatever reason, and so far I've completely effed up every single assignment he's let me go on. Especially the one in the Mines—"

"You weren't that bad," Reno waves it off.

"You're just saying that." I lean forward slightly, holding my glass for emphasis. "I told our enemies—known terrorists—about what we were doing and the whereabouts of you-know-who and—"

"Want me to be honest?"

"Please?"

"You're ruining my buzz. We're not at work, so I'd rather not talk about work."

A server, the only one in the bar, comes over and puts a new round of drinks on the table and leaves. I wait until she's gone to continue.

"We can't all be you, Reno." I wish I could be like him and not give two craps, but I'm not him and probably never will be anything like him. I care too much.

No one listens to the new girl. I'm lucky enough they even let me come out with them.

I just want them to understand how I feel about the whole Mythril Mines situation. Tseng had never talked to me like that before. I was in mid-sentence, spilling my guts to Cloud and Avalanche when he appeared out of nowhere and told me to shut up and that I talk too much. Now, even our enemies don't take me seriously.

Reno's produces a cigarette and lights it. "Seriously, perk up or something before we never invite you anywhere else again. It isn't that serious, everybody makes mistakes. Am I right big guy?"

He nudges Rude and his partner looks over at him. "Maybe."

I put my glass around the table, nibbling my bottom lip for a quiet moment.

"Maybe it's not that serious for you Reno, but you guys can do whatever you want. You didn't see how he looked at me," I say with a hiss that is low enough not to be heard by strangers. "I told Cloud and Co. about Sephiroth and the Promised Land and where we thought he was going next."

Tseng was probably trying to figure out how I could be so much different from my sister. He's the reason that I'm here now—I don't want to embarrass him.

No response.

"Are you two even listening to me?"

Rude sighs again, but doesn't say anything, he just looks out of the window near him. The ShinRa building is there dominating the skyline. Reno, on the other hand, is leaning back in his seat across from me, flicking his lighter on and off and watching the server walk by. Yes, this is probably a clue that they'll never invite me out again.

"You worry too much. Let it go," Reno says finally. "It isn't the end of the world just because you made a couple of mistakes."

"That's your philosophy?" I glance at Rude for confirmation that this is indeed Reno's philosophy. If he agrees, I know I'm not going to get any real help with this one. Rude, instead of agreeing, does something much worse. He turns his gaze away out of the window again.

"Elena, you didn't do much wrong," Rude says, facing me. I can't see his eyes, but I'll take what I can get.

"Other than blurting out confidential information?"

"Yeah...other than that," Rude replies.

I thought Tseng would have let it go by the time we got back to headquarters, but I guess the more he thought about it the more it got on his nerves. He really let me have it in the middle of the hallway as soon as we got off the elevator on our floor. He didn't yell, but he didn't have to. That would've been fine if the president of the company wasn't happening to walk by.

I can still remember seeing him watching us. His presence had made me so tense, even though he was completely silent, until Tseng finished talking to me. I rarely see President ShinRa, since he hardly leaves his office, and I'm not important enough to talk to him it shouldn't really matter.

But still. He's the heart of ShinRa, and my little screw-up could cost the company.

"He'll probably fire me."

"Who, Rufus?" Reno says.

"Yeah, President—"

"Naaah, he's cool."

"He can't be  _cool_ he's our boss."

"So?"

"I heard he doesn't cry or bleed. He wouldn't think twice about firing me—"

Reno laughs and scoffs at the same time. "Where'd you here  _that_?"

My face gets warm, "Well I mean…I know it's probably not true but—"

"No, no," Reno says, suddenly very serious. "It's true."

"What?"

Reno shrugs, "I'm just saying, I ain't ever seen him do either, and as far as I know, nobody has. Anyway, stop whining about it. C'mon, how about a toast."

"To what?" I'm still on the whole crying and bleeding thing.

"How about to you joining us? Even if you can't keep your mouth shut."

"I could drink to that," Rude says with a shrug.

A smile tugs at my lips, Reno and Rude raise their half-empty glasses.

-oooo-

The sound of birds screeching wakes me up. I slide out of bed.

Bad idea.

As soon as my feet hit the floor, my knees buckle, the room slants under me, and pain slashes into my skull, the pain shooting back and forth like a ping pong ball. I stumble for the bathroom, running into walls and doors. I shove the bathroom door open, drop to my knees, and expel the contents of my stomach into the toilet bowl.

When it's over, my skin is sticky and wet and I can barely move. I tear my eyes away from the toilet and manage to stand up. I turn on the sink and wash my face, brush my teeth. Then, I rummage through the medicine cabinet and struggle to open the bottle of pain medication. It slips from my fingers and the whole thing falls into the toilet with a little plop.

Last night comes back to me. Somewhere around 1 a.m. I decided to try to drink Reno under the table. He offered to pay. I should've known better.

I hit the handle on the toilet at the same time a loud, obnoxious blaring comes down the hall and an annoying ringtone comes from my room.

The fire alarm. My phone alarm.

I've got an hour before I'm late for our meeting. Nothing makes a quite the good impression as arriving to a meeting full of your superiors hung over. Tseng will be beside himself with pride. Maybe I'll throw up on his shoes.

Trying to ignore the pain in my head, reach my phone on the side of the bed, turn the alarm off, then I stumble towards the hallway, grabbing a tennis ball on the edge of my dresser on my way out. In the hall, I take aim and fling the tennis ball at the fire alarm mounted outside of my bedroom. The ball connects, the fire alarm lets out a sad chirp and falls silent.

I head back to the bathroom.

Ten deliciously cold minutes later, I step out, wrap a fluffy blue robe around me, and make my way towards the kitchen. It's located a bit off the living room, partitioned off by a breakfast bar.

My apartment is a marvel of glass, black leather furniture, a large flat-screen floor model television, and hardwood floors, courtesy of ShinRa. There's a balcony that wraps around the living room and bedroom. It's pretty—but all of the apartments in this building look the same. I know this because Reno and Rude live down the hall from me.

My favorite thing about the apartment is the window that looks out on Midgar, even if most days the sky looks overcast and gray. I haven't decorated yet. I guess I'll get around to it. There are no paintings on the walls to lighten things up, and the only personal article I have with me is well…me. I guess that's what happens when you move without notice.

I make my way to the glossy black and silver refrigerator and pull it open, grabbing some frozen toaster pastries from the fridge and popping them into the oven. Then I slide over to the coffeemaker—also courtesy of ShinRa. On my tiptoes, I grab the handles to the cabinet above it and pull it open. My bag of coffee beans is right at the edge. Without thinking, I pull it down. As soon as I do it I realize my mistake: The lid isn't tightly shut. The beans rain down around me, hitting the hardwood like shotgun shells, each one seeming to vibrate in my skull.

Chewing my bottom lip, I look hard at the beans deciding on my next move. The beans look up at me expectantly. I gaze back at their caffeine-enhanced goodness. I could just pick them up. Besides, no one is around, and my floor is pretty clean—I think. I'll just have to pick up another bag of coffee when I have free time. Or maybe just get an instant coffeemaker and have perfection every time without fooling with beans. Maybe make a run to that supermarket off the highway. I've never been there. Maybe I'll meet someone there while contemplating melons.

Nah.

I scoop some up, put them in the coffee maker, and turn it on with a satisfying beep.

Readjusting my robe, I make my way back to my bedroom. Like everywhere else, there is nothing special about it. Four white walls. No paintings. No nothing.

I get a fresh uniform out of the closet and drop my robe. A little while later, I look and feel a bit more like myself. I stand in front of the mirror and button my shirt over my bra — an off-white one with little cherries all over it — and shrug on my blazer. I'm in the middle of zipping it up when I catch my eye in the reflection.

For a strange second, I think it's her looking back at me. My sister, Elyssia. Our eyes are different. Mine are russet brown like Dad's, while hers are seafoam green like Mom's. Maybe it's the hair. Maybe that's why Tseng looked at me strangely the first time he saw me with the new hairstyle. She used to wear her hair short too —she cut it when we were teenagers, said she was tired of looking like a twin.

Funny, I wonder what she would say if she knew I chopped mine off to look...well not more like her...but to be taken more seriously. The schoolgirl tresses aren't a good look a twenty-one year old. Especially not a Turk. The first time I cut it, I did it myself with a pair of dull scissors the night before I started work. I just couldn't stand the thought of showing up looking like...myself. Not like a silly little girl. One side ended up much shorter than the other did, but I like it.

The sound reaches me before the smell does. The fire alarm, blaring through the thin walls of the apartment. I run into the kitchen.

Plumes of smoke are rising up from my breakfast.

First mental note of the day:  _Don't multi-task. Doesn't work for you. Only leads to disasters._

With only 5 minutes before I'm late, I open my apartment door and peer into the hall, looking down towards where Reno and Rude's apartment is. I have to be careful because I never know when Reno's going to jump out and scare me. I lock my door and take a sip of my coffee while rushing for the stairs.

-ooooo-

My mom always said that if the day started badly, it was bound to end up pretty good. Well that may work for her, but it doesn't work for me. Otherwise I wouldn't be rushing into the ShinRa parking lot ten minutes late with a big brown coffee stain on my shirt.

I make it to my office, shut the door, and shrug off my blazer and tear off my shirt. Stripping—never thought I'd be doing that here. Good thing I had the foresight to store a couple of dress shirts in my bottom desk drawer. Truth is, that's because the first three weeks here were spent with me staying late, doing work and trying to comb through old personnel files for information about my sister. A change of shirts and washing my face and drinking several cups of coffee could get me through the morning until lunch when I could go home and actually take another bath.

I throw my ruined shirt on the desk, and I'm in the middle of buttoning up a fresh, crisp one when my door swings open.

Reno's standing in the door way with his arms crossed and a small, unreadable smile on his face. He strokes his chin thoughtfully while his gaze takes a third trip up and down me.

"Well, this is…."

"Reno!" I struggle to button up.

He finally looks up at me, a smug smile on his face. "I dunno Elena, I don't think there is enough time to do it right."

"What?"

"Oh this isn't an invitation?"

"Just…leave please?" I feel the heat practically burning my face. I know I'm blushing terribly, I know I'm not gonna be able to live this one down. At least it's just us and Rude's not in here, too. I grab my blazer and put it on.

"You know...you could use those ladies to get on Tseng's good side." Reno says pointing at said ladies and leaning on the door frame.

Am I that obvious? What does he know about Tseng's good side? I don't know why I feel like a schoolgirl when I see our commander—but what does it matter to Reno? And I so wouldn't use my …girls….to get on anyone's good side. No way am I gonna admit to my feelings for Tseng though—denydenydeny.

"What do you want Reno?" I try to give him my best glare while adjusting my stupid tie.

Reno rakes his fingers through his flaming red hair. Most of it is in a ponytail, but the lot of it just hangs loose and has a mind of its own. He can walk in looking like a drunken one night stand and manage to pull it off perfectly. He probably takes more time getting ready in the morning than I do to achieve that look.

"Meeting started like ten minutes ago. Tseng wanted me to come get you."

"But I thought it wasn't until another two minutes?!"

A slight smile twitches on Reno's lips. He's picking on me again. I frown, taking a threatening step towards him.

"Five minutes actually," he says, putting his hands up in defense.

"Well let's go then," I say, managing to control my breathing. I follow him out of my office and down the hall to the conference room.

-ooooo-

The conference room features a long glass table with twelve or thirteen leather chairs around it and a large-screen television at the top of the table along with a map of the planet. It's the only room without windows on this floor.

Reno enters the room first, with me following behind. Rude is already inside and so is Tseng. They're holding a conversation, with Tseng leaning against the wall near the screen and Rude leaned back in his chair somewhat casually talking about who knows what. Tseng's doing most of the talking of course. Rude only offering sound bites, occasionally. I'm sure they could make talking about the weather seem fascinating.

"Found her, boss. She was prancing around her office naked."

Other than a slightly quirked eyebrow and pursed lips, Tseng doesn't react to Reno's inappropriate remark. He's all business as usual with his dark hair brushing his shoulders and his suit perfectly perfect on his frame. And those eyes—

I sit down across from Rude, unfortunately close to the chair at the top of the table. Tseng doesn't bother sitting down. He says good morning to us all in his serious business-like manner, tells us this won't take long, and then gets down to it. We have these meetings the first day of every business week. I think he hates them as much as we do, but he likes routine more than anything. But it's okay because I get to stare at his high cheekbones and chocolate eyes without seeming like a creep.

Until he looks directly at me.

I look away, and accidentally catch Reno's eye and bump my knee under the desk at the same time. Reno winks. I look away and stare at the ShinRa logo on the wall instead. It's mounted on a glass slate. I stare at it until it blurs into my vision while listening to what is being said and taking mental notes about any potential missions while trying to seem as professional as possible.

Next thing I know, the meeting's over and Reno is at me.

"You're so sprung," Reno whispers in my ear. He squeezes my shoulder with more force than is necessary.

"You can't prove that," I say, standing up from the table and rising to my full height, facing him. "You know nothing."

"Please, you couldn't keep a secret if you tried," Reno says, pursing his lips in disbelief. "Go ahead, seize the day. Ask him out. He could use the attention."

Tseng's still at the head of the table, putting together the files he had referred to and who knows what else. He's tucking strands of loose hair behind his ears like he can't be bothered with their free-falling. Why he doesn't just wear it pulled back I don't know, but I like it.

"What?" I hiss, "No. You're out of your mind."

"Crazy, I am not. Though, the jury is still out on that one for you, rookie," Reno says with a scoff and then pats me on the shoulder.

Then he leaves me alone with Tseng. I adjust my suit and dust myself off. _I had a dream that started like this…_.

"Elena."

I stop in my tracks and rearrange my face before turning around. He's picking up the files off the table and pushing his hair out of his face. If I had the nerve, I would joke about him needing a hair tie, but I can't manage to get it out.

"Sir?" I clasp my hands together and nibble my bottom lip

"Are you okay?" He makes it across the room in a few easy strides, and walks past, motioning for me to follow.

'Of course I'm okay sir', I want to say, 'I just have a crippling crush on you that you seem totally oblivious to, as well as the fact that I keep staring at you more often than anyone should. Oh yeah, and I'm a little uncomfortable right now because I had a weird dream about you, and I really don't know why I like you so much.'

I nod. "Yessir. Why?"

"Hmm, are you sure?"

I follow him. "Yes, sir. So...what are we doing today?"

We walk past his office and down the other end of the corridor. The halls are empty. Maybe this'll be a good time to grovel and make him forget about what I did the other day. It's been long enough time that he can't possibly still be annoyed about it, but I don't want him to think "idiot" every time he sees me.

" _We_  aren't doing anything."

"What do you mean?" I imagined that he wasn't going to be accompanying us on our next assignment at least; I hope that's what it meant. If he was going to stick me in my office with paperwork again, that would only be yet another reason to hate today. "We aren't going on assignment? What about following-"

"What I mean is you're not coming along." Tseng states simply.

"Why sir?" I'm not sick or anything. I just have a bit of a headache…"

"It's not that, Elena," he says. He hands me the stack of files. "It's just that it's not necessary to send you. It's just field research. No need for three Turks to be there."

"But sir-"

"Elena. Part of being a Turk—or doing any job—is doing what is asked of you no matter how small you think the task may be."

I would argue the point, but I can hear the irritation creeping into his tone. He's too polite to be outright rude sometimes unless he's unbelievably annoyed, but I know he wants me to shut up. At least about that subject. Maybe I should slap him on the butt and tell him he looks great as always. Hah. No.

I hug the files to my chest, knowing this will keep me confined to my office for at least three hours. Three horrible hours. No.

"But sir," I start, a light bulb turns on in my head—I know how to convince him.

"Yes?"

Whatever genius that is about to come out of my mouth never comes. The light bulb explodes and leaves my mind in darkness as the elevator nearby opens.

The someone is none other than the president of ShinRa himself, Rufus ShinRa. He looks straight through me and turns his attention to Tseng as he approaches.

"Well, this is unexpected, what brings you down from your perch?" Tseng says conversationally, yet still with that businesslike air to him.

Rufus manages a slight smirk, "Even I need to get out of the office sometimes, Tseng."

They begin to talk about something—about business. Something he needs Tseng to handle for him as soon as possible. They're completely ignoring me in spite of the fact that I'm right beside them. I detach myself from the conversation, knowing that I won't be able to interrupt, and even if I did, they probably wouldn't hear me or would be annoyed.

Instead, I get a better look at Rufus ShinRa. It's always like this when he's around. He never actually speaks to me, or acknowledges me whatsoever. We've never actually even talked to each other, not really.

Once, I bothered to say hello when we walked past each other for a big board meeting, and he managed to take the time to nod in acknowledgement—he didn't even look up at me. It was probably completely automatic with no regard of who was scrambling for his attention. Completely distracted.

He's got an air about him, a presence, that's not so easy to ignore. Other than obviously being endowed with some great genes, his sense of style sort of makes you look at him. All-white suit with a black vest today, and those black fingerless gloves he's always wearing and a stylish, long white suit coat. I wish I could command attention like that.

Those pale blue eyes, golden blonde hair that is slicked back, with only a few perfectly-placed strands hanging in his face—just…wow just great. He's perfect.

Maybe I should just leave. They won't even notice. Tseng gave me these files to deal with—I have no reason to follow him around like a lost puppy, and they clearly don't even know I'm here anymore. They won't even notice that I'm gone.

With that thought in my head, I take a step forward. Rufus looks in my direction, his gaze meeting mine. The next second every single file slips from my grasp, scatters, and floats to the ground in a spiral.

"I'm sorry..." I quickly say, all the while I can feel them both looking at me. I hear Tseng sigh, and I can feel them staring at me. Face burning in embarrassment, I drop down to my knees and start gathering up the mess.

The files are disappearing faster than they should. I look up, and get a shock. Rufus has gracefully stooped down, and picking up the files faster than I was. It is over before it started. Rufus stands up, holding the rest of the files. I look up at him from the floor, confused. A distinct cough in the background tells me to stand up too. My tongue is tangled between a "thank you" and an apology.

"I...thank you, sir," I mumble. Is this a trick?

"You're welcome," he replies smoothly. He closes the space between us, and I catch a hint of his cologne. He slips the folders in my hands, and meets my gaze. "Don't look so surprised. I don't bite…." He replaces the final file seamlessly without even touching me.

"I..."

He takes a final step closer that simply can't be appropriate. He places a hand on my shoulder, and leans in slightly near my ear. "Unless asked."

I bite down on my lip, drawing blood. He doesn't linger, instead he steps away from me, with a self-satisfied smirk on his face, and then turns away, heading back to Tseng. Did that just happen?

"I'll see you later," Tseng says from somewhere nearby, behind me. Oh gosh he saw that didn't he?

"Okay, sir..."

I watch, vaguely unaware of my surroundings, as the two men enter the elevator.

"Bye..." I wave feebly while trying to hold the files in one arm.

Rufus raises an eyebrow as the silver doors began to close. "Have a good day, Edna."

The files fall from my grasp again but don't scatter, but instead hit the ground with a loud smack. The last thing I hear before the doors close is a chuckle from Rufus.

Alone now, the normalcy of my surroundings return along with a desire to put my hands around Rufus' neck until he turns blue. I snatch up the files and storm down the hall heading for my office. My anger fades into irritated disappointment.  _Edna?_  Edna was the woman at the desk on the first floor that signed in all visitors and new employees who didn't have security badges yet. We look  _nothing_  alike! She has weird hair, wears too much make-up, and probably has never even stepped into a gym. She's two and a half of me, easily.

"And here I was thinking he was actually paying me any real attention. He could have just left me on the floor if he wasn't even going to attempt to get my name right." I slam the files on my desk. "Edna. C'mon _, Edna_?"

I let the files drop onto my desk and slump down in my chair.

"Who are you kidding, Elena? He doesn't care who you are, let alone what your name is."

He is kinda cute though.

Okay fine. Not kinda cute. He's gorgeous, well-dressed and …hot. Gosh, he's so hot it is almost painful.

And also my boss. What was he playing at saying that to me anyway? Talking about he doesn't bite unless asked?

"Who cares? He probably was just messing with me," I say to myself, not believing a word of it, while looking at the mount of unorganized files on my desk.

Rufus ShinRa's little jokes don't matter, but I definitely need to make sure he doesn't mistake me for someone else again.


	2. Little Moments

It is funny how once you notice someone you begin to see them everywhere even though technically they're known to spend most of their time peering from their perch on the 70th floor. For the next few days it's like he's everywhere, and I begin to look forward to these little moments. Walking past in a hallway with other higher-ups, getting off an elevator, making random trips to our floor to have mysterious meetings with Tseng. He never seems to notice me, but I always notice him.

I want him to acknowledge me again. To make reference to the moment we had in the hallway—did that really even happen? I try to say hello but nothing comes out, and it doesn't matter because he never looks my way. It's like I'm made of glass.

It's funny how badly you want something when it is out of reach. Not that I want him. I just want him to talk to me again, even if it is just about the weather.

There was something exhilarating and exciting about having his attention for a few seconds and never mind how many times I've analyzed that "don't bite" comment. What does that even mean? I want to talk to my mom about it, see what she thinks, but well…I don't think this should be the first thing we talk about after the way we left things. Oh mother, guess what? The boss maybe-sorta-kinda made a pass at me. What should I do?

I know what she'd say. Stay far far away from him. That's what she'd say, and she's right. But I am staying far far away from him. It isn't like I've broken into his office and laid on his desk wearing nothing but a robe made of chocobo feathers saying "come on big boy".

This is the first time I've been in the same room with him for more than a few seconds since the thing in the hall.

We're in the executive conference room with the department heads Reeve, Scarlet, Heidegger, Palmer and Hojo, the other Turks, and a couple assistants for Scarlet and Heidegger (apparently, they can't be bothered to take their own notes, or remember anything). Heidegger's assistant is a very serious-looking guy who is really skinny and slight. He looks like a stiff wind would blow him and his glasses over. Scarlet's assistant is a woman with dark hair that is in a large braid trailing down her back, brown eyes, and brown skin. She looks annoyed about something and is staring at the desk. Very rarely does she look up from taking notes in a black folder.

Rufus is sitting at the top of the table with a bored look on his face as Palmer, the head of the Department of Space Exploration, talks about his division and what they need for some project. These meetings are usually pointless, and I've been to six of them since I got here. I think they just like to hear themselves talk. Palmer is clicking his pen every five seconds, and he has sweat pooling on the top of his balding head. He's always sweating underneath his brown suits, and he looks like if someone poked him with a pin, he would burst and fly around the room like a balloon.

The conference room is a bit gaudy—the remnants of Rufus' father's taste no doubt—with red velvet carpeting and the huge ShinRa logo embossed in gold and mounted on glass. We're all sitting around this large reddish-oak conference room table in black leather chairs that swivel.

Scarlet interrupts Palmer, bringing up her department instead. The Weapons Department. She's talking about how what they do is a lot more important than Palmer's work and she doesn't even know why space exploration is a thing at ShinRa. It isn't like they actually do anything worthwhile in that department. And when was the last time they sent anyone into space?

Palmer gets all red in the face while Heidegger—the head of the Public Safety Maintenance Department—which the Turks, officially the Investigative Department of General Affairs, are a subdivision of—laughs his horrible horse laugh in his seat. I've only met him in person face to face once or twice, and I'd rather not have to endure that again.

Scarlet and Heidegger are always together. She's tall, busty, and always in tight, low-cut red dresses with a pile of bottle-blonde hair and extensions on her head, and he's short, round, and beefy with a big black beard and beady eyes. I hate being around them. I wouldn't even come to these meetings if we weren't asked to show up from time to time. It isn't that I don't like learning more about the company's process, but it usually just ends up as a way for the company leaders to ask for things from the president or bicker with one another.

My gaze lands on Tseng. He's sitting diagonally to me, beside Reeve Tuesti, the leader of the Urban Development Department. Reno is directly across from him and beside me. Tseng's listening with an unreadable look on his face and his arms crossed over his chest. I wonder what he's thinking about. I haven't been able to look him in his handsome face lately. Gosh he's just so glorious.

"You're supposed to be  _listening,_ " a voice hisses in my ear.

Up until now, I'd thought Reno was asleep beside me. His eyes had been closed and his long, lanky frame had been slumped in the chair.

"I  _am_."

"No you're not. You're lusting," Reno says, pinching me on the arm.

"Stop it!" I hiss.

Someone clears their throat. Tseng is looking at us, with an eyebrow raised and a slight frown. My face grows warm. Reno is laughing silently beside me. I mouth an apology and stare at the table top—maybe Rude will let me borrow his sunglasses so I can hide from my embarrassment.

Rude is sitting across from me; he is the only person I know that can get away with wearing sunglasses indoors. When I first met him, I thought he just had to be blind. That is, until I tried to poke his glasses and he just stopped my hand. That made us instant friends in my mind.

"Kya hahahaha!"

At the sound of Scarlet's laugh, everyone winces. Reno once warned me that it was a laugh that could cause severe hemorrhaging and the urge to commit all kinds of violent acts on the person laughing. He is right. I always imagine choking her to death when she laughs.

Only she would laugh in the middle of a discussion about the mako reactor repairs in Sector 5 and repairs to the demolished Sector 7. Reeve, who brought it up in the first place, tries to keep his face neutral. He's a handsome, older man with a meticulously trimmed goatee and thick, jaw-length dark hair.

"Sector 7 isn't anything to laugh about, Scarlet," Reeve remarks, his voice tight. Scarlet waves him off with a scoff. Next to me, Reno shifts in his seat.

I remember hearing about that incident on the news. I wasn't in Midgar then. That's how Reno ended up in the hospital and how I ended up finally becoming a Turk. Apparently, they decided it was time to add another person to their dwindling ranks. Who better than someone with specialized skills who happens to be the sister of a former Turk?

For the first time during the entire meeting, Rufus actually speaks. I find myself looking down the table at him as he explains to Reeve that repairs won't happen anytime soon.

"More funding for the Space Exploration Department," Palmer blurts out, cutting Rufus off mid-sentence. Rufus cuts his eyes at him, clenching his jaw slightly.

There is a heavy moment of silence. Rufus opens his mouth like he's about to say something that'll cut Palmer down to size, but then he just sighs and runs his fingers through his hair. Palmer exhales like he just dodged a bullet.

He asks for funding at every meeting so far, just throwing it in at random intervals. Someone must have stolen Palmer's backbone and ate it.

They start discussing something else—completely ignoring Palmer. Heidegger is arguing with Reeve. Scarlet interrupts, saying she has a new project she wants to run by everyone. Reeve rolls his eyes. Palmer frowns and crosses his arms.

Scarlet holds out her hand for the woman on her left to give her a pen. After doing so, the woman catches my eye, giving me a slight smile, and looks away to the head of the table—at Rufus—then looks at the table while drumming her nails across the surface. She never talks, she just takes notes for Scarlet or hands her diagrams. We always end up exchanging a brief smile—why, I don't know.

Maybe we're both agreeing that her boss is a self-important idiot who likes to blow up things.

She looks up again and catches my eye. She offers another small smile and looks away. My gaze lands on the black mug in front of me. It bears the red ShinRa logo. I can't tell what's in it, but I hope it is coffee; it was always a good time for coffee, even if it is in the middle of the afternoon.

Nibbling my bottom lip, a nervous habit I adopted who knows when, I stare into the unknown cup and then bring the cup to my lips, tasting lukewarm water.

 _I wonder what Rufus is doing right now._ The thought floats into my mind, and my gaze lands on him over the rim of my cup. He is sitting back with his hands together like a teepee, watching Scarlet with a subtle look of disgust on his face. He idly pushes his perfect hair from his eyes and lets it fall back into place.

The next second, I receive a shock and almost drop the cup. Rufus looks over at me, his pale, blue eyes meeting mine. His gaze lingers. I look away. I place the cup back on the table and try to look focused on the conversation, but my face is burning. What if he's still looking at me? What if he's went back to the conversation? I have to know. I pick up the mug again and take a sip while casting a glance in his direction.

He's not paying attention anymore. He's commenting on something that Heidegger said. When he's done, he flips through a notepad in front of him and idly taps his pen on the desk. Then, his gaze returns to mine, and the slightest smirk appears on his face.

Without thinking, I sip more water a little too fast. My eyes start to sting and my gaze blurs. There's a cough bubbling in my throat. I hold it in as it bubbles and burns in my chest, begging to be let out. My throat itches as my mind races to find a distraction that doesn't happen to have blond hair. I hold my lips together and try to swallow down the feeling.

A small cough rattles my irritated throat. Then it gets louder, louder, and finally uncontrollable. I cover my mouth, trying to muffle the gagging/coughing that fills the room. When the coughing subsides, everyone's eyes are on me.

The silence is deafening.

"I'm sorry." A final cough sets my face on fire.

Rude chuckles very softly. Reno snorts.

Scarlet's assistant looks over at me with her eyebrows raised and a sympathetic smile on her lips.

"As I was saying," Tseng says, getting everyone's attention away from me pointedly. He gives me a strange look before returning to what he has to say. They're discussing Avalanche now and the Turk's progress in finding them.

Everyone goes back to listening as if the random rookie Turk hadn't just started coughing like she had a terminal disease. Except for Rufus. He is watching me, a smirk playing on his lips. I look away, even more self-conscious than I'd been before, especially since I can still feel his gaze burning into the side of my face. I whip out my cellphone under the table and fiddle with it, just to have something to do.

What if Tseng sees and thinks I'm being unprofessional?

I try to pay attention for the rest of the meeting. I straighten my posture and widen my eyes to look extremely alert. His attention to me doesn't mean anything. He's probably just amused. It is a boring meeting. And I made it a little interesting, that's all. I'm not going to let my overactive imagination get the best of me. Just because someone looks at you doesn't mean they're into you.

Not that I want him to be. I have enough problems with this silly crush on Tseng.

The meeting ends with Scarlet threatening to put her hands around Palmer's throat, and I head out with Reno and Rude. Tseng stops to talk to Rufus. We make our way into the hall, heading for the nearest elevator. We stand around in the hall, waiting for it to arrive.

"Laney, what was wrong with you earlier? Hairball?" Reno says, grinning at me.

"Shut up. Rude, make him leave me alone."

Rude laughs lightly but doesn't say anything.

The elevator arrives and the doors slide open, but I don't get on. So far I've avoided getting on the elevator with them by making excuses to take the stairs. It isn't the easiest route, especially in the part of the building that has millions of flights of stairs, but I haven't quite shaken my elevator phobia from childhood. But this time, it isn't because I hate elevators, but because I have the strangest feeling I've left something behind.

"You coming?" Reno says, holding the door open.

I slip my hand into my inner jacket pocket. My cellphone is missing. Crap. In my mind's eye, I can see it sitting on the conference room table.

"Go without me."

Reno shrugs and releases the door, letting it close.

Returning to the conference room, I make it over the threshold. Rufus is still inside—but he's alone, with his back turned and he is talking on his cellphone. He's near the large window that looks out into the hall.

I take a deep breath and continue inside. Maybe he won't turn around. Keeping my eyes on him, I silently start making my way around the table toward where I was sitting. Sure enough, my cell phone is sitting where I left it. My foot clips the side of a chair. I trip. My knees slam into the side of the table.  _Sonova—_

"Hold on," Rufus is saying. He ends his phone call. "Forgot something?" He turns around and leans against the glass.

"My phone, hehe," I say, grabbing it off the table and sliding it into my blazer's inner pocket.

"I see."

"Yes...so...I'll be out of your way sir. Didn't mean to ruin your phone call," I push myself forward, heading across the floor. A black folder is left sitting on the desk too, I notice from the corner of my eye. "Are these yours?"

He shakes his head slightly, indicating that they indeed are not. "I believe Scarlet's lead designer left those behind."

"Guess I'll um…bring them to her," I say, slipping around the table to retrieve them. I can feel him watching my every move as I take the surprisingly heavy file off the table and hold it to my chest. I glance up at him, meeting his gaze from across the room. "Have a good day sir. Um, you wouldn't by any chance know her name would you?"

"I can't say that I do," he says. There's a pause, almost as if he wants to add something more. I stand there with the files, uncertain.

"It's nice to see you again, sir. I mean…not that...um...okay I'm going to go. That designer needs these files."

"Well don't let me keep you, Elena." He removes himself from the glass and makes his way to the door. He stands at it, holding it open. "Are you coming?"

"Oh! Yes, sir. Yes."

We leave together silently. Rufus walking beside me.  _Should I say something?_  We stop at the same elevator. The numbers are practically crawling. Gosh, I should say something. Be adorable. Be sophisticated. Nah, nobody would ever believe that I'm sophisticated. Just managing not to trip and fall is good enough.

"So um…sir?"

"Yes?"

Nothing. I've got nothing. Ask him why he said he didn't bite unless asked? Tell him that I had a chess dream about him, me, and Tseng? And we weren't even playing chess. There wasn't even a chessboard in sight. Maybe ask him if he noticed that I got my hair professionally trimmed the other day instead of going at it again with a pair of scissors? It would be nice if he noticed. Rude noticed.

"Um….so how are you liking it here?"

Rufus looks over at me with a slightly amused expression. "It has its moments."

"Yeah? I feel the same way," I say.

"Is that so?" he says, watching me.

"Yep," I say. I begin to say something else, but Rufus' phone rings. He glances at me and then answers it, completely engrossed in what the other person is saying. I wait around for a moment, standing there, then decide to leave. "Bye, sir."

Rufus doesn't respond, he's talking to the other person on the phone, sounding quite irritated at what they've said. The elevator comes and the doors ding open. I inhale softly, ignoring the feeling of dread creeping up in the pit of my stomach.

I hate elevators with a passion. They make me nauseous, and it has nothing to do with heights—not really, but instead probably with the fact that as a child at the ShinRa Academy a couple of my competitors decided to sabotage the elevator I was in and I was stuck in it overnight. My parents didn't know because they thought I was on a field trip with everyone else. Even so, I want to take the elevator with him, I can't let Rufus know that I'm a little afraid of elevators.

What kind of Turk is afraid of elevators?

I get on and hold the door. Rufus waves me off, telling me to go ahead.

"Bye, sir." I say again, letting the door close. As soon as they shut, I press my forehead against the doors, trying to ignore the sickening feeling of movement around me. "Stupidstupidstupidstupid girl."

-oooo-

When I make it to the Weapons floor, I beeline to the employee directory kiosk across the corridor from the floor's elevator bank. It is to the left of a gleaming silver door that will only open for authorized people. A few workers in lab coast come in and out as I use the touch screen device; they give me furtive glances but don't look directly at me. I could just waltz in, being a Turk and all, but I don't want to look like an idiot trying to find her. Thanks to Rufus, I know what her position is. Sure enough, under Weapons Design is an ID photo of the woman who'd been with Scarlet. Sierra Lorcan is her name.

Scanning my badge, I make my way inside.

Weapons takes up about two or three entire floors on its own and directly isn't part of the ShinRa tower structure. Instead, it is in a different part of the ShinRa HQ complex. Probably because a day in the life of a Weapons worker probably involves blowing stuff up. This part of Weapons is where the workers…uh work. It is a wide open space made mostly of glass. In the middle of the floor are cubicles and desks where people in white lab coats are coming and going and pouring over diagrams. Around this open space are glass walls that either reveal other corridors, testing rooms, or other offices. These offices mostly have the blinds drawn and take up the north wall—I guess this is where the higher-up designers, and probably Scarlet, have their work spaces. The way it is set up, the bosses can constantly observe the worker-bees.

I stop a guy in a pair of ridiculous-looking, oversized dark-rimmed glasses who is walking by and ask where Sierra is. He merely points across the work area towards one of the glass offices on the other end of the area and returns to texting on his phone. Muttering thanks, I make my way over to where he was pointing. There's an office on the first floor level with the blinds drawn.

On the door is Sierra's full name and the title:  _Chief Weapons Design Specialist_

Fancy. Fanceh.

I, the junior Turk, knock softly. No response. I knock again a little harder. The door opens inward. I expect the warm face of the weapons designer, instead I'm face to face with the blood-red lipstick'd scowl of Scarlet.

She scoffs, giving me a quick once-over, and turns away, allowing me to glimpse the designer sitting at her desk.

"I expect a mock-up on my project by the end of the week. High priority," she snaps at Sierra.

"Of course," Sierra responds, her tone light but bitter.

Scarlet mutters something under her breath and sweeps past me without any acknowledgment, leaving the door open.

"Hello?" I say, peeking in.

Sierra looks at me, her expression turning wary. "Why is a Turk paying me a visit?"

"Um," I say, hesitating, shifting the files around in my arms, "You left these in the conference room."

"Jeez," Sierra sighs, pinching the bridge of her nose. "Scarlet will be looking for those notes. Thanks," she says, giving me a tired smile. "Come in."

I cross the floor and hold out the black folder. She takes it and sits it to the side, on top of some design schematics.

"I'm Elena, by the way," I say, thrusting out my hand.

She stands up to her full height, towering over me by at least a head and she gives me a firm handshake.

"So you're the new Turk," she states giving me a smile and then moving to organizing some things on her desk. To be someone who makes weapons for a living, she doesn't look like how one would expect someone who makes weapons for a living to look like. She's got kind, dark brown eyes and a full face that's been lightly dusted with the application of makeup by an expert hand and wearing bright red lipstick that complements her naturally caramel-brown skin.

She catches my gaze before I can look away. "What? Is there something on my face?"

"You're really pretty," I blurt out.

An awkward laugh escapes her, "A little random, but thanks."

"Sorry. I don't really have a filter."

"That's actually kind of refreshing."

"Yeah?"

"Around here people aren't usually as forthcoming. A lot of mind games and sideways remarks. No one ever says what they mean. Surely you've noticed."

"Not really. My coworkers, well one of them, probably wasn't even born with a filter."

She laughs, "I think I know which one you're talking about."

"I'm betting you do. I'm still pretty new though." I look around her office.

There is a couch in a corner on top of an abstract area rug with a painting above it of a peaceful beach landscape. A metal bookshelf near her desk next to a metal floor lamp, contains photographs of smiling people in the tropics and books.

"I always wondered who you were whenever you'd come to meetings. I thought you were Scarlet's assistant."

Sierra's eyes meet mine as she continues organizing. She gives a little laugh. "Easy to make that mistake given how she treats me." She glances at the door as if Scarlet will burst in accusing her of slander.

"Well, I'll let you go," I say, feeling awkward.

"Actually, if you're not busy, do you mind going through some tests with me? It is always more helpful with accurate feedback from someone in a combat field."

The desire to jump up and down comes strong, but I hold back. I'll get to make a valuable contribution? Sign me up.

Sierra gets an excited gleam in her eye. She comes around the desk and puts a warm hand on my shoulder and leads me into the Weapons Department testing lab.

She leads me deep into the innerworkings of the Weapons Department. Everywhere the walls are high, white, and lined with large windows—none of which actually face the outside but are meant for monitoring projects and employees. There are a few spots where the walls are riddled with bullet holes, burns, and what looks like dried blood. The flooring is white as well, and I get the strong feeling that I'm in some type of padded cell.

She takes me to large room that is empty except for a long silver table in the middle of the room. There are strange objects hanging from the ceiling with tags on them and yellow caution tape across the lines, contrasting heavily with the stark whiteness of it all.

"This is so exciting," Sierra says going over to an instrument panel near the door and putting in a code. "Can I show you something?"

"Yeah sure," I say. I can't keep the smile off my face. Her excitement has me excited.

"Okay hold on I'll be right back."

She disappears for a few seconds and comes back holding a clipboard and some type of equipment in her hands. She places the clipboard on the table and then the other stuff. "I want your opinion on this—since you're a Turk…this…I think this could be useful in the field for people like you. Scarlet doesn't really care for it since it's nonlethal, but well…you'll see."

"Okay," I say, stuffing my hands into my pockets.

"Hold on one second…" Sierra fiddles with something on both of the devices.

"I was actually in the middle of this when Scarlet decided to make me come with her to that meeting…I was calibrating these…" she gestures towards them. I walk over for a closer look. They're silver gun-looking things that have cross-looking things attached to them. She runs her hands over them gently as if they're not weapons but are delicate books or something.

"What are they?"

She tells me she doesn't know what to call them, but they're non-lethal weapons meant to provide extra safety in the field and that a Turk or Soldier-type would benefit from these tools…maybe.

"Scarlet doesn't agree with half the stuff I come up with unless it is something that can cause mass destruction, but I have to take what I can get." She hands one of the guns to me and makes her way over to a wide open area away from the tables. "How about you? Enjoying life as a Turk? I hear things can get pretty exciting."

"Yeah….I wouldn't know how exciting it can get," I admit. "I haven't been able to prove myself just yet."

Sierra gives me a tight-lipped smile. "Yeah, just know that compliments are harder to come by around here. You're lucky if they say nothing at all, because if they make the effort to insult you... "

"How long have you worked here?"

"Too long. I started when I was 17 years old. So...yeah nine years ago."

"Seventeen?!"

"Yep. Barely seventeen. I attended one of ShinRa's engineering schools as soon as I was high-school aged. I guess they liked what they saw," she says, shrugging.

"That's amazing."

"Not really. ShinRa likes them young."

She places one of the weapons in my hands and shows me where the safety switch is and the trigger. It's heavier than it looks.

"You stay right there, I'm going to go down this way." She walks away from me for about a few minutes, putting us a good distance away from each other.

"Pull the trigger when I count to three," she calls out to me, holding up her weapon like a person would hold a gun. I mirror her movement.

She starts a countdown and when she gets to three, I pull the trigger.

Simultaneously two nets shoot out of each weapon, with surprising force that would have knocked some civilian off their feet, and hooked together.

"Neat." I stare at the net suspended a few inches off the ground. "Can it only work with two at a time?"

"Unfortunately yes...I still have kinks to work out and I haven't thought of a way for it to retract completely yet...but hey it could come in handy in the long run."

"Maybe. There's a lot of holes. I think it's too dependent on the other gun."

Sierra nods thoughtfully while coming over and taking the other one from me. "You're right."

"Yeah…maybe…" I say. I'm right about something?

She moves on to the next weapon and then the next, testing it, getting my opinion. To fill the silence, I talk and talk and talk, telling her about how things have been so far with the Turks, about how I was raised in Midgar but had been living in Kalm with my mom for a bit about Reno and Rude and Tseng.

I'm barely aware of time passing until she puts down one of the weapons, a snake sword, and passes a hand over her face. "I think that's enough for today. Mind coming back again?"

"Fine by me," I say, giving her a smile.

She stands there for a moment, tapping her pen against the clipboard, regarding me with a mild level of scrutiny. "Say, Elena…do you have any plans tonight?"

I shake my head.

"Well," she shrugs, "Since you don't know too many people here yet, how about you come out with me? There's this place in Sector 8 I like to go to after work if I get off early enough. Good music, good food. You should come with me."

"Oh sure!" I say, clapping my hands together before I can stop myself. This gets a small smile from her.

The lounge/café is a few blocks from the Turk apartments and Sierra's own apartment. It is located underground beneath a chocolate shop, and it has open mic night every night.

The music can be heard even before we step in the door. It's a little space with a kitchen behind closed doors in the back and quirky decorations on the walls and ceiling. A black stage is the centerpiece with a few microphone stands, a drum set and a small standing piano. A handful of people are in the restaurant, some eating, some just talking, others taking pictures or nursing a drink alone. On the stage are two women and a man, the girl on violin dancing around the stage while the sound reverberates through the air, the guy singing. The other girl is on the drums.

Sierra leads us to a small round table near the stage and hands me a menu. She waves to someone—a guy in a black hat and jeans—in the corner and gives me a smile. I watch the people on stage.

"I wouldn't have ever guessed this place existed." I say after the group gets off stage and person gets on stage with a sheet of paper trembling in his hands.

"I think that's kinda the idea," she says, giving me a little smile. I give her a big grin in response and focus on the acts.

Act after act gets on stage. At one point, a guy comes over asking Sierra if she's gonna do anything tonight. She gives a little mysterious smile and shakes her head. I order something to drink and get some cookies, Sierra gets tea. As the night goes on, I watch her mouthing the words to some of the songs with a wistful look on her face.

"Do you sing?" I ask.

"Not really," she says with a modest shrug. "Unless you count singing in the shower and in the car and messing around here sometimes. Too busy to do anything more than that. You know how it is."

"I don't think I do."

"Good. It's better if you don't. You don't want to become boring like me."

I don't know what to say to that, so I just laugh and focus on the stage.

Around two in the morning, we get up to leave. The café is beginning to clear out and the stage is empty. We head to our cars parked on the side of the road.

"See you around, Sierra," I say, grinning stupidly. I'm not sure if it is because I'm tired, or just excited to maybe have a new friend. "Nice to meet you."

"Have a good night," she says, giving me a wave before disappearing into her car.

I get into my own car and head to my apartment. I don't go to sleep, instead I stay up watching old sitcoms on TV while trying not to think about Rufus ShinRa and the little moments we've been having.

There's nothing to think about.

* * *

-oooo-

* * *

Another day, another workout at the ShinRa gym. The gym is made mostly of glass so anyone passing by outside can see what those inside are doing.

The others are gone on assignments that I haven't been included on. I'm standing in the gym locker rooms sliding into a pair of black shorts and a matching sports bra.

Once I get started at the punching bags, I don't even remember the fact that I'm half-naked. It's just me in here alone, accompanied by nothing but the sound of my own breathing, grunts, and the sound of my fists making contact with the bag.

I wish they could actually see what I could do. All I'm ever doing is paperwork and the occasional training session. If I'm terrible at this job, it is only because they're not letting me go on enough assignments. I still think Tseng is annoyed about what I did in the Mythril Mines, but I mean really.

The bag rattles, dangling helplessly from the chain. I punch it harder and throw in a few kicks. I bet he wouldn't treat my sister this way. She was an amazing Turk I'm sure. She probably never made a single mistake. They probably thought they were getting a carbon copy when Tseng made the offer.

I had stopped expecting them to come my way—and now that they have they don't even seem to take me seriously. Which is probably my fault.

I have to get in good with them. It is the only way I'll be able to look at myself in the mirror—little miss not-her-sister. I know they're all thinking it. I can tell in the way they looked at me the first time they met me. Well—except Rude. With those sunglasses, he's always wearing, I couldn't tell with him one way or the other. But that's beside the point. First time I met Reno he just crossed his arms and stared at me for a second while stroking his chin. Probably thinking that if it quacks like a duck and it walks like a duck then it must be a duck. And Tseng…well Tseng is a piece of work.

My knuckles are burning, and my lips are getting dry; I know I should stop, but I can't. I don't want to.

Why am I even here? When I left Kalm the way I did, I told myself that it was for a good reason. That I'd finally get to the bottom of my sister's mysterious disappearance. I know she's not dead—she's too stubborn and too talented for something so  _normal_. So far I haven't even done that right—been here a few months or so now and all I've hit are dead ends and late nights up staring at the computer in my office with her face staring back at me on the screen from an old I.D. picture. Why you don't just ask one of the other Turks, someone could ask. Well, because I don't have the nerve. Because I don't want to know the answer. Because I want to find out on my own. Because I'm afraid of what the answer may be.

And maybe I'm not just here for her. Maybe I'm here for myself.

Why does everything have to be so complicated?

A sharp pain shoots through my right hand. The tape around my knuckles are tinged pink with blood. I rake my fingers through my sweaty hair and stumble over to the bench and grab my water, unscrew the cap, and take a cool swig.

Maybe it's me. Maybe I am the reason everything is so complicated. One more thing for little Laney to mess up. I wish one thing would go right, or at least there was someone to talk to about it.

I slump over, water bottle dangling between my knees, and stare at the floor. What am I doing here? Why can't something good happen for once? Why can't I be great at something and be appreciated?

"Feeling sick?"

I jerk my head up so fast that I swear something snaps.

Rufus ShinRa is standing nearby, leaning against a wall with his arms crossed. He's wearing another one of his perfectly tailored, cream-colored suits. The jacket is open, revealing a black double-breasted vest.  _Hot-hot-hot-hot-hot-_

"Um, I, uh...yeah...no I'm fine." What am I even saying? Do I just sit here with sweat cooling on my body? Do I stand up and shake his hand and put sweat all over him? How long has he been standing there watching me? How come I didn't see him come in? How red is my face right now? If I close my eyes will he go away? Maybe I'm still in bed and he's not even really here looking at me right now. Yes. That's all it is. I'm not even conscious right now.

"Come to get a workout, sir?"

What? What does that even mean? That doesn't even make sense. What? He is going to work out wearing a three-piece suit? He probably has a gym in his home anyway. Maybe he was just walking by and decided to come in and look around. Maybe he liked what he saw. I mean I did almost knock the punching bag off its mount. I mean...I am pretty good. No. I'm very good. Not that anyone cares. Not that he cares. Especially not him.

Rufus chuckles ever so slightly, and waves off my comment with an elegant flick of his hand.

"Not today. I was just passing by."

"Um...um..." What else to say? I take another sip of water just to have something to do. Then I get up and make my way over to him. What am I doing? Are we going to discuss what he did to me a few days ago? Or are we both gonna act like that didn't happen? I hold out my hand.

Rufus raises an eyebrow; he has a look of slight confusion, but he's amused. His eyes are so blue — an icy, beautiful blue.

"I don't think we were ever properly introduced, sir."

"Ahh, yes. Elena, right?" He uncrosses his arms and takes my hand and gives it a firm shake.

"Not Edna," I say before I can stop myself. What if he doesn't find that funny? What if he gets angry and fires me right now? I'll have to go back to Kalm with my tail between my legs. A failure and a disgrace—

He smirks slightly, "Ahh yes. An unfortunate mistake."

"I didn't realize you made mistakes, sir."

A slight smirk crosses his lips, "Of course not."

How far can I take it? I know I should shut up, but I don't know how. This is the most exciting thing to happen to me all day.

"How long were you standing there, sir?" What am I doing? Why can't I just shut up? And why hasn't he let my hand go yet? And why do I like it?

"Long enough. Well," he says, letting go of my hand, "I have things to attend to."

"Me too," I say. I can still feel the warmth and pressure of his hand on my skin. "Um...see you around." _See you around?! Really?_

He gives me a semi-casual wave — almost a dismissal, and turns and walks away. I watch him go, happy that he can't see the stupid smile tugging at my lips. A light, airy feeling is pooling in my stomach, and I feel a little lightheaded.

_No, Elena. Bad Elena. Don't you dare go trying to get a crush on the boss of all bosses._


	3. A Feeling, Just a Feeling

Under the sheets, I curl up in a tight little Elena-ball. I don't want to get out of bed. My head hurts. I didn't go to sleep until 6 a.m. and now I can't stop thinking about what Rufus ShinRa is probably up to. I bet he's up right now, doing his perfect routine. Probably in the mirror telling himself how attractive he is while getting his hair into place. Or maybe he's asleep. I wonder what he looks like asleep.

"Get up Elena…get up Elena…" I mumble against the pillow.

After the third time, I manage to obey myself. I pull myself up and out of bed, head to the bathroom, undress, and turn the shower on high. Steam quickly fills up the bathroom. I step in and enjoy the hot water sliding down my body. All through my shower, getting dressed, and styling my hair I repeat my mantra to myself:  _Today is going to be better. Today is going to be great. Today you will do everything right. You won't piss anyone off. You will ask the important questions. You will not hope that President ShinRa happens to look at you for five seconds. You will stop wondering if Tseng will ever come to his senses and ask you on a date. You will focus. You are a Turk dammit. Your sister would be laughing at you right now. Heck, she might just be laughing at you right now._

I keep reminding myself that today is going to better as I get in my ShinRa issue car—an inconspicuous, sleek, black bullet-proof souped-up sedan with tinted windows and no registered plates—and make my way to the ShinRa HQ.

The ShinRa entrance floor is as unwelcoming and as cold as ever with its glossy floors, efficient receptionists and the many confusing elevators that only go to specific floors. There are busy ShinRa employees briskly walking to their destinations and standing in line for certain elevators. Almost all of them are wearing a permanent scowl except for the two tour guides. They're both wearing glasses—one man and one woman—and are in matching blue uniforms. There are a group of children is clustered around them wearing high socks, cute little skirts, and cute little pants.

I pause for a moment and take them in. There's two little girls, one with braided pigtails, the other whose hair is flowing freely and cut short. Their arms are linked, and they're trying to keep up with the line. They don't seem to be paying attention to the tour guide's spiel at all, but instead are looking around for themselves.

I remember the first time I went on tour in the ShinRa building. It looked the same and seemed even bigger somehow. I was in those ridiculous socks, a little skirt, and pigtails. My sister was with me, looking around with ambition in her eyes. Even when I was only 9 and she a few years older, she decided that she wanted to work here. Well, we both got our wish. Now what?

I tear my gaze away from the children and trudge across the floor, keeping my eyes downcast. I hear someone calling my name—a female someone—and I speed up and her voice gets louder.

I stop at the reception area. It's a big circulation desk with four different receptionists—three women and one guy—standing several feet apart at different posts. The nearest woman is Edna. She's looking at me expectantly while looking like an angry rabbit.

Being a receptionist, she's expected to maintain a certain appearance, a uniformity with the rest of the receptionists at ShinRa. So, she's in her reception uniform—a fitted blue suit that comes with a skirt with her name on her chest—and her hair pulled back in a tight bun. However, like most people, she's managed to find a way to put her own spin on things without completely being out of uniform. For one, instead of a white blouse beneath her suit, she's in a green one—lime green. Her fake lashes are blinking at me as I approach as her heavily made-up face pulls into a smile. She adjusts her square-shaped plastic, glasses frames (that have no lenses) and peers at me over the rims.

We look nothing alike. How in the heck did Rufus mistake us even for a second? She's taller, has broad shoulders, and is a lot more robust. Seriously, Rufus?

"Good morning, Edna."

I don't know why she likes to talk to me. The first day I came in, I had to fill out some paperwork for a temporary card at the front desk until I could go get my stuff set up through security. I gave her a little small talk and my best smile, and she's been harassing me ever since. Usually, she just wants to complain about how much pollution there is and how it is all ShinRa's fault.

I should ask her why she continues to work for a company that she despises. Though, she could always turn around and ask me why I work for the company that may or may not have caused my sister's disappearance and/or death and inadvertently ruined my family—but this isn't about me. This is about her.

Besides, she wouldn't know that about me anyway. And I'd shake her until her nose bled if she said anything like that to me.

Edna learns forward at her desk and clicks her pen several times. The other two receptionists on either side of her give pained looks. "Good morning?" she says, "There isn't anything good about this morning. Do you see the sky? How dare you say good morning? There is nothing good about this pollution and—"

I spot Rude walking across the lobby. Alone. There is no Reno in sight. He's adjusting his sunglasses and walking past the group of kids still waiting on the elevator. Some of the little kids, especially the little boys, look up at him in awe—he completely ignores them. The woman tour guide watches him longer than she should.

I scamper away from Edna and catch up with Rude just as he's about to step into an elevator that doesn't have a long line. I tap him on the shoulder and then greet him with a very loud "hi."

He looks down at me, nods in acknowledgment, and turns his gaze to the elevator doors. Great. Elevators. Maybe I should've just taken the stairs? It is what I usually do, heck I usually show up an hour early just to take thousands of stairs up to the Turk floor. It is my morning workout.

I guess today I'll join Rude, it'll be weird if I don't, right?

I just have to concentrate on not throwing up.

The doors open with a soft ding, and the city is sitting across from us behind the elevator's glass casing. These are the worst elevators—I can sometimes tolerate the enclosed ones—but being able to see the city at this height in this little  _box_ —the world seems to tilt just slightly. I lean against the wall.

The sky is overcast with dark clouds over the sprawling concrete jungle. There is nothing else to see for miles but city. And I know that beyond the walls of Midgar, there's barren wasteland. The nearest place that offers any actual vegetation and a clear sky is Kalm. A place I don't particularly miss right now, even though I know I should.

The doors shut at the same time that Rude's cell phone rings. He's leaning against the wall opposite me, with his cell phone to his ear. Rude and a cell phone? He doesn't even  _talk!_  How would the other person know if he's listening? Shaking the thought away, I close my eyes and lean against the cold glass, trying to ignore the weightless upward movement. The elevator slows to a stop. Rude steps out and I follow.

Rude might not talk much, but I like being around him. Not once since I've officially met him have I ever felt the urge to run in the opposite direction. I'm also convinced that despite his superior height, muscular build, dark glasses, multiple ear piercings, and bald head, he's secretly a sweetie.

"Hey Rude?" I tap him on the arm.

"Yeah?" he says in his smooth, deep voice.

"You know I just got a word out of you right? Does this mean I win?"

He adjusts his tie and clears his throat. "I didn't realize we were competing."

"Six words! I'm on a roll."

Rude shakes his head and faces forward, but there's a slight smile playing on his lips. "Did Reno put you up to this?"

"Nope. Yay, we're having a conversation."

Even though I can't see his eyes, I just know he's rolling them at my comment. He straightens his tie and doesn't say another word. We make a turn down our hall. It's empty, but Tseng's office door is open. I prepare myself to say hello to him without spazzing out.

"Elena. Rude." Tseng's voice comes from the open door.

"Sir?" My posture stiffens painfully and automatically. I followed Rude inside.

Tseng sits at his desk against the rigid back of his chair. His black hair spills carelessly over his shoulders, and his deep brown eyes follows us only briefly before his attention goes on his computer monitor.

"Sir?" Rude says, standing near his desk. I hover closer to the door trying to stretch myself into perfect posture and resist leaning against the wall.

A frown etches across Tseng's face for a minute before it fades. He looks at us. I drop my gaze and cross my arms around myself for stability. I have to focus on why he summoned us, not on how gorgeous he is when he frowns.

"Elena, please close the door."

I jump. "Yes, sir! Right away." I push it with a little too much force and it slams. The sound blasts off the walls. I wince. Tseng blinks. Rude clears his throat and straightens his tie again even though it was already perfectly straight. He thinks this is funny doesn't he?!

"Sorry...about that."

Tseng doesn't say anything, he just pushes some stamped and sealed files into an enveloped marked 'confidential', opens a drawer, and puts them away.

"Rude, have you heard from Reno?"

"I haven't, not since last night," Rude replies.

Tseng rolls his eyes and mutters something to himself that sounds like he was saying that Reno was probably out late with some girl. "Well, I need you to go find him."

Rude doesn't say anything else, he just nods in acknowledgment.

"And Elena," Tseng says, turning to me. "I have some things for you to take to Rufus."

I laugh softly, "Don't they have secretaries for that, sir?"

Tseng raises a brow, not expecting back-talk from me. I instantly regret my decision to attempt to be funny. Thankfully, before he can answer, his work phone rings. He glances at it and his expression changes to an 'I'm-not-surprised' look before he slips it open and puts it to his ear. He listens for a moment, his expression becoming one of exasperation.

"You  _what_? Reno you have got to stop harassing Heidegger. Try to have some professionalism. He is your superior."

Whatever Reno says in response makes Tseng roll his eyes. Rude and I exchange a look. This happens a lot, doesn't it?

"...after all this time I'd think you would have grown tired of pissing him off...well...it's almost ten o'clock, I expect you here in thirty minutes, this is a time-sensitive thing...yes Reeve finished it...no you can't play with it…what are you twelve? Reno...I'll brief you when you get here." He hangs up.

Tseng sighs. "Rude, how do you spend that much time with him?"

"I am still trying to figure that out," Rude says very seriously. I smile at him. How  _does_ he deal with Reno?

"So...sir...what about the files?" I chew on the inside of my cheek.

"Yes, here," Tseng says, going into a drawer in his desk. He pulls out a black envelope of files. "He'll be needing those."

I approach his desk and take them from him. After the exchange, Tseng returns to looking at his screen. Rude takes this as a dismissal, I guess, and opens the door and heads out. I follow Rude halfway out of the office, but stop, letting Rude continue on by himself. I pivot on my heel and face Tseng again.

"Is there something else you need?" Tseng asks, not bothering to look at me.

"I just..."

"Is there something wrong? You look a bit...pale," Tseng says, now looking at me. I feel myself blush for no apparent reason. Well, no, not for no apparent reason—the fact is that I have a ridiculous crush on my commander.

"I just...have a slight headache."

"Hangover? Again?" Tseng asks. His tone isn't judging, he is just stating a fact. "Perhaps you shouldn't spend so much time trying to keep up with the guys."

"But sir—"

I almost launch into an explanation that I wasn't out drinking last night until I notice a small amused smile on his lips. I stop my mind from shattering at the expression and try to remain calm.

"So was there something you wanted to talk to me about?"

"Well, yes," I say, coming a little closer to his desk and easing down into a chair. I place my hands in my lap.

Tseng turns to me, giving me his undivided attention. He seems to be in a good mood; if I'm going to say something, I better say it now.

"I wanted to apologize for my performance in the past. I'm really not that bad usually."

Tseng raises an eyebrow slightly. Stares at me for a second as if he's carefully choosing his words. "I understand you're nervous and you're trying to get adjusted to being a Turk, but as we discussed before, blurting out confidential information is not something that can be taken lightly."

"I know, sir. I just wanted to make sure you knew—"

"Trust me, Elena. If I didn't think you were capable of handling the responsibilities of your job effectively, I wouldn't have recruited you."

"Thank you, sir."

"And I'm certain that in the future you will not make me regret that decision. Right?"

"Right, sir," I say trying my best to maintain eye contact even though I feel like melting into the floor. Make him regret his decision? That's a lot of pressure. He's right though, there is no reason for me to perform like an idiot. I shouldn't have told Cloud and his friends that information at the Mines. It wasn't intentional; it just slipped out. Things are always...slipping out. I have to do better, I will do better. "You don't have to worry sir, I will do a lot better in the future."

"I know you will," Tseng says.

"Ok," I say, standing up. "I'll leave you alone now."

I feel so stupid.

"Oh, and Elena?"

"Yes, sir?"

"Don't try so hard," he glances up at me. "You're better than you think you are. You just have a bad habit of getting in your own way."

"Yes sir," I say. I feel a weight lift off my chest. Tseng is give me another chance. He isn't going to let that slip up define my career as a Turk. Now I just have to do the same thing.

Leaving Tseng's office, I make my way to the stairs for the lengthy ascent to the 70th floor. I take the stairs at a run, taking them two at a time, barely even feeling any strain until I'm around the 64th floor. I decide to take an elevator for the remaining four floors—because there's no elevator access to the 68th floor for anyone but the president himself.

I step out of the elevator, not sure if the tight breathing is from the elevator, the running up hundreds of stairs, or the fact that I have to interact with Rufus.  _Breathe. You are just delivering paperwork. No worries. Besides, what's the worst that can happen?_

There's a secretary sitting at a black glass desk just opposite of the elevator. She gives me a quick once over and pulls her personal cell from her ear. She is a broad-shouldered, Wutainese woman with large breasts straining against a low-cut black shirt. There is a fake pearl necklace nestled between her cleavage. Her black hair is piled high in curls on top of her head. I approach her desk, gripping the files tight.

I open my mouth to speak, but she cuts me off, aiming a pen at me. "You'll have to come back later," she says with a frown.

"Later? Why?" I counter.

"Come back later," she says. With that, she returns to her phone, twirling her pen around her fingers and staring sideways past me. "No….it was just some random girl trying to see the president. I know right? Haha, right?" She glances over at me, giving me a once over and a sneer. "Yeah…nah she's probably not his type. I dunno, some random little girl."

I reach over, snatching the phone out of her hand and dropping it on the desk with a thunk. Her bright red lips fall open and she blinks rapidly at me. She reaches for her phone again.

"Touch it, and I swear I will break every bone in your hand," I say, stepping closer for emphasis. I pull my lips together tight and stare into her eyes, trying to seem as menacing as possible. "Is the president available?"

She deflates a bit, but a sneer of defiance wrinkles her nose. What is her problem? "Do you have an appointment?" She glances at a big calendar next to her computer.

"I don't."

"Can't let you through then. As Rufus ShinRa's secretary, my sworn duty is to protect Rufus ShinRa —"

"From what? Running out of sticky notes? Look. I'm a Turk, and I have to deliver these confidential documents to him." I feel irritation prickling at the base of my spine.

She lets out a laugh. "You expect me to believe you're a Turk? Just leave your little files on the —"

That's it.

I want to launch myself at her and rip her tongue clean out of her mouth. What's her problem? Does she really think this is OK?

"Look," I say, teeth gritted, "I'm not going to beg you or let a secretary interrogate me. Buzz him and let him know I'm coming."

"I can't, he —"

I slam my hands down on the desk and lean in so close that I whiff her perfume. "Do it. Now. Or you'll see just how much of a Turk I can be. I doubt the president would care if I broke every bone in your face. You're replaceable. Now do it."

At the lack of fear and uncertainty that crosses her face, I feel powerful, smug even.  _Am I a Turk?! Why do people keep doubting that?_

"You people. You are all crazy," she whimpers, leaning away.

Crazy I can live with.

I straighten up. She hits the button on the intercom. The other line picks up almost immediately.

"What is it now?" Rufus' voice is crisp, cold, and laced with thinly-veiled annoyance.

Maybe I should come back later. Leave the files with her? But Tseng specifically told me to give these to him directly. He said something about them having to be signed off on. That they were for a project being headed up by Heidegger who couldn't be bothered to send these up himself.

"S-sir….um…"

" _Today_ , Charlene."

"It's Ch-Chaminade, sir."

"I don't care, that's what you fail to realize. What do you want?"

"It's a Turk, sir. Here to deliver confidential correspondence, sir."

"Fine." He ends the call.

Nervousness glides down my spine. If he's in a bad mood, maybe I should just leave him be.

Swallowing my nerves, I give Chaminade my brightest smile. "By the way, I'm Elena. Nice to meet you."

I extend my hand and Chaminade stares at it like there is a live bomb in it. She takes it, her hand clammy and plump in mine. Firmly, I tighten my grip around her hand until her face screws up in discomfort.

"And yes, I  _am_  indeed a Turk."

I release her, watching satisfied as she rubs her hand and grumbles something.

"Good luck," Chaminade says.

I ignore her and head down the hall between her desk and the front door of his office. I work to calm my nerves and dry my sweaty palms.

Should I say anything once I enter his office or should I stay totally quiet? I reach the door—an unassuming silver thing with a keypad on the side of it and a retina scanner. Should I knock? Put my eye in the scanner and let it read me? Before I can do either, the answer comes.

There is the sound of escaping air from the airlock, and the door slides open smoothly. There are cameras in this hall, surely, but they're hard to spot.

I stand there for a second as my eyes adjust to the natural lighting of the office as opposed to the awful fluorescent lighting in the hallway. Rufus comes into view. He's standing at the window, shadows cast over him where the sun doesn't reach.

Should I say something, or just put this down and leave?

The easier thing to do is just deliver and leave. Yes. Yes. I make a move— _clack_. My heels! With each step, the sound seems to echo on his stupid, marble floors. The desk is a good distance away from the door. It feels like it is an ocean away.

Finally, I reach his desk. I place the file down gently on the glass black surface near his computer.

"Ahh, so he sent you."

"Me, sir? Um…yes. Hah…is that a problem?"  _What? What? What? What does that even mean? I don't even know what I'm talking about!_

"Not particularly," he says, shifting slightly from his spot at the window. I stare at his back. His arms are crossed.

"Well…I'll go, sir, and leave you to it."

Rufus doesn't respond. I guess in his head, I've already dismissed myself, and he's went back to being consumed in whatever thoughts he's consumed in. Instead of dismissing myself though, I stand there a little longer, staring at his back, and at the view outside of the floor-to-ceiling wall-to-wall window.

The sky is overcast grey, but there's a slight hint of sunlight. The city sparkles 70 stories below. This is a good day—even though it does look like rain, it rarely ever rains, and when it does, it goes on for weeks. But still—it's such a beautiful view.

"It must be great being able to see Midgar like this every day."

"What?" Rufus says.

"I'm sorry, I'll go. I shouldn't have said anything anyway. I just…I was admiring the view. I mean not you—I mean you're admirable too—but I mean I mean….I was admiring the sky and it's really beautiful from this vantage point—"

"Come. Get a closer look."

He's not gonna tell me to just get out of his office?

"Really, sir?"

"Why not?" Rufus says.

_He doesn't bite, unless asked._

I make my way around his desk, trying hard not to trip and fall on something. I slip up beside him and try to focus on the sky. Instead, I find myself looking at him. The little bit of sun that is out illuminates him in a glow from this angle. A strand of his blond hair hangs in his face. His sharp, pale blue gaze is looking outward, but they seem distant as if he's not really looking at what he sees. Like he's lost in his own thoughts.

Suddenly, his gaze flickers over to me, and he arches one of his blond eyebrows. I quickly look away.

"I um…I should go."

"Tell me, what do you see?"

"I'm sorry, sir?" I look over at him. He's not looking at me again; he's looking at his city.

"Out there. What do you see?"

Below is a system of Mako reactors in the distance and the sprawling metropolis. I couldn't see them, but I could imagine the people going through their day in their comfortable routine, looking forward to the last few minutes of work so they could go home and relax and do whatever they actually cared about. Or sleeping in late. Then, beneath it would be the slums below. Sector 7—or what used to be Sector 7—is visible too. It is garish, a heap of metal and destruction that has yet to be repaired.

I remember hearing about Sector 7's destruction on the news. The claim was that Avalanche did it. I know now, being on the inside, that that was far from the truth. I'd probably be in Kalm right now if it wasn't for the Sector 7 plate being dropped. I'm not sure how I should feel about that.

I answer him, "I don't …know?"

"Sure you do," Rufus says. Something about him, his tone...he's hard to figure out, but that's what's so alluring about him.

"Ummmm….from this angle I can't see everything, so I don't really know. I guess if it is out of sight it is out of mind?" I shrug hopelessly.

Rufus doesn't say anything in reply, and there is a pocket of silence.

"Um…I'm sorry was that the wrong answer? I….."

"Are you afraid of me, Elena?" The way he says my name, it lingers just a bit on his tongue. I get a weird tingle in the pit of my stomach.

"Um...that's…that's a strange question?" I say before I can stop myself.

Rufus chuckles softly, "Perhaps. It's just that, you seem so tense. Or are you always like that?"

Is he going to bring up the fact that he doesn't bite unless asked again? Is he going to address that moment we had in the hallway? Was I the only one that felt something during that moment? A stupid, silly something, but I mean….it doesn't matter. He was probably just joking with me anyway.

Even Rufus ShinRa gets to make jokes, right?

"Oh well…it's just that…I'm always just…" I grasp for words, but they fade into nothingness.

"You just?" he says softly.

My brain is about to shatter into pieces, I just know it!

"For one thing, you're Rufus ShinRa, so of course I'm gonna be a little tense. I don't know," I stare outward. I can feel him looking at me. I should just leave. I've done what I needed to do. There is no reason for me to stay. "I'm not afraid of anyone, sir. With all due respect."

"Well, that's good to know," Rufus says. He doesn't say it any particular way, he just says it simply. Even so, I look over at him only to see he's left his spot at the window.

He sinks down into his nice, black desk chair, and as he's doing that he waves me over with a smooth, almost careless gesture. "Take a seat."

On his lap?!

He turns around towards his desk, sliding the files toward him and flipping them open.

I make my way around the desk and sink down into the chair directly in front of him, placing my hands in my lap. I probably need to wait until he's done so I can take the files back to Tseng or Heidegger.

His gaze scans the first page, a slight frown furrowing his brow. "Are you busy, Elena?"

"Nooo….not really."

"Are you expected back anytime soon?"

"Not really? I don't really have anything to do at the moment. Almost lunch break anyway."

Rufus doesn't say anything, he flips the page on the file. Rufus rolls his eyes slightly, flipping idly to the next page. "I suddenly regret enforcing the rule that this type of project should require my handwritten signature."

I laugh uncertainly. A loud, short, awkward laugh that hangs in the air. Eek. Rufus looks up at me, his frown softening very slightly.

"You're originally from Midgar aren't you?" he asks, returning his gaze to a diagram.

"Um yes, originally," I say. Maybe I have to wait until he's done. "I was in Kalm before I was recruited though. I was not born in Midgar though, and my family spent a lot of time in Icicle."

Rufus doesn't say anything, instead reading over something with a raised brow. I find myself watching him as he reads. He's got classic features. Elegant—aristocratic really. His skin is very fair, it seems to be a result of his natural tone as opposed to Midgar's constant lack of proper sunlight. Whatever it is, it is beautiful and flawless. Thick, blonde lashes and narrow, perfectly groomed brows. His thick, brilliant, blond hair is clearly styled to be pushed back, save for a few locks that gently brush his skin when he moves. He puts a lot of thought into how he presents himself to the world, doesn't he?

Rufus looks up at me, catching my eye.

I look away quickly, apologizing before I can stop myself. He doesn't acknowledge it.

"You lived in Kalm with your mother?"

"Yeah, for a little while. I was trying to figure out my next steps. We needed a break from Midgar at the time. Some fresh air, hah."

He clearly didn't review my file.

"And do you think you have made a good choice?"

"Um yes, I think I have. I've always wanted to be a Turk."

Rufus' gaze flickers up to me again, lingers for a second. I feel like he is looking through me. he merely returns to the file, flipping another page. He pushes his hand through his hair.

I find myself looking around his office, taking in the décor. It has been completely remodeled from what I remember when his father met me once. It is simpler and much more understated and elegant in this new style. His desk is large and made of black glass, and there are no photos anywhere. There's a black television mounted on the wall near the door. There's a section in a corner where there's another door probably leading to a bathroom. In a corner of his large office, there is a beautiful black sectional couch against one of the corners near that door with a glass coffee table near it, facing the window. Near that section of his office is also a small personal bar.

There are no traces of the office of the previous President ShinRa at all.

"How are you liking your return to Midgar so far?" Rufus asks, breaking my thoughts.

"Um well, traffic sucks, the pollution sucks but I am happy to be here," I say. "I'm happy to be a member of the ShinRa family."

Rufus scoffs. "Don't pander for my sake," he says not bothering to look up. Is he disinterested in me or the file? Should I be offended?

"It's true. I was happy to leave Kalm, to start my life."

Though, it isn't quite how I imagined. Leaving things so tense with my mom. Becoming a Turk when that was the only thing she'd asked of me to not do.

"Hmm," he said, flipping through the next few pages without stopping. "Why be a Turk?"

"Well, why not? It is what I trained for. Ate, slept, and breathed it at the Academy and at home. My sister and I both wanted to be Turks. What else would I want to do? Be an accountant? I couldn't imagine myself being at a desk all day—I need excitement. No offense."

Rufus looks up at me out of the corner of his eye, smirking ever so slightly. "None taken. There is a lot that can be accomplished—controlled, behind a desk. It can be exciting, too—not that this is a good example," he gestures toward the file.

I giggle, a little too much.

Rufus' gaze lingers on me for a second, then he looks back at the file. "Either way, we all have our roles. Our place."

I want to ask him about how he enjoyed Junon, but decide against it. Instead, I just agree with him and pick at my fingernails.

"President ShinRa—"

"Don't  _ever_  call me that," Rufus interrupts me suddenly. There is a slight edge to his voice.

Instantly, I'm embarrassed. "I'm sorry. What am I supposed to call you then? President Rufus? Why don't you want to be called President ShinRa? Mr. President? It's your name —"

"My father's name. Not mine," Rufus says with an odd expression on his face. He seems disgusted with the thought.

"Oh, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to offend you," I say with a grimace of my own.

Rufus' expression changes. It is subtle, but his frown smooths out. "Please understand, I'm not offended. I just want to make sure we are on the same page," he says, "as we'll be seeing a lot of one another."

"Right, sir. What should I call you then?"

Rufus closes the folder with a snap. "Call me Rufus."

"Isn't that a bit informal?"

"Is it? I find it appropriate. It is better than calling me 'sir' constantly."

I guess he can tell I'm a bit concerned, so he continues.

"If things pan out the way they should, we'll be a lot closer than the average boss and employee, wouldn't you say?"

"Sir? Closer?" What does  _that_  mean?

"You're a Turk. Surely that comes with certain responsibilities and privileges."

That's true. Turks are a lot closer to Rufus than the average employee would be. It's in the job description. Well, if there was an official job description.

"You're right. Of course."

"Of course," Rufus says.

Reno and Tseng never call him President ShinRa. Rude, who hardly even addresses him directly as far as I can tell, doesn't either. The closest they get to formality is "sir" and "president". They do call him 'Rufus', but I don't know. I don't know if I've earned that yet. It could be taken the wrong way.

Out of nowhere, my phone begins to ring. I jump slightly, banging my knee on the desk and swearing. "Sorry!"

Rufus waves it off, "Answer it."

So I do. It's Reno calling. I accept the call and put the phone to my ear.

"Laney," Reno says. "Where are you? We wanted to take you to lunch. Tseng says you ran off to join the circus. Something about you having a skill that involves swallowing swords or something."

"No he didn't. I'm busy."

"Well hurry up. We'll meet you in the lobby."

"Okay," I say, but Reno has already hung up. I look to Rufus. He's watching me—no, he scrutinizing me it seems. In fact, I get the feeling he was watching me the entire time. He's sitting back casually in his chair, hands resting on his desk, creating a teepee with his fingers. When I catch his eye, he doesn't look away, he just smirks ever so slightly.

"Um," I say looking away at the desktop. "I…should go, sir. Am I dismissed?"

"Certainly. Can't leave Reno waiting."

A little laugh escapes me. "Right."

Rufus slides the files across the desk. "Take those files with you. Tell Heidegger that if he ever sends me trash like that again, he'll be looking for a new job."

"Yes sir," I say standing. I take the files and adjust my suit.

"Elena."

I stop, "Yes sir?"

"It is good to have you aboard," he says, focusing those blue eyes on me.

For a moment, I don't know what to say. My mouth just sits open like a dead fish. I hug the file to my chest, and time seems to stop for a second. Finally, something that sounds like 'thank you' and 'you too' tumbles out of my mouth.

Stupidstupidstupidstupid.

"I'll see you later, sir."

I still don't move. I can't seem to lift my feet off the floor.

"Are you ok?" He seems amused.

"Yes, oh my gosh yes, sorry I just...yeah I'm going to go now," I say, turning away and making my way for the door as quickly as possible. It opens for me, and I flee, not even bothering to say anything to Chaminade, who is on her own phone gossiping anyway.

As I make my way down to the Turk floor, I replay our conversation in my head over and over again.

There is nothing going on with me and Rufus ShinRa. Of course not. But why do I keep getting the strangest feeling?


	4. Nothing but the Rain

It's been a few weeks, and I haven't seen him around lately. I haven't been at the ShinRa building a lot myself—instead I've finally been on some more assignments with the guys. One with Rude, one with Reno. Field research, it turns out, literally can mean just that.

We were in the field with a couple of scientists for one assignment, going to some mountains farther east. We were needed because some of the locals can be a bit "eccentric" about ShinRa and other "forward-thinking abomination" types. With Rude, we were escorting some officials to an important event. Well, actually, it was a personal event for Scarlet and barely had anything to do with the ShinRa Company. The reason there needed to be two Turks there was because it was big enough to warrant security.

And to think, I thought we'd be kidnapping someone, stealing something, or worse. I mean, I doubt those were just rumors.

I'm looking forward to high-priority assignment. We're supposed to work closely with the important people, but I've never had an assignment with Rufus. When I'm not with the guys, I'm usually delivering things to Palmer or Reeve or the other execs, but I haven't gotten to use my skills—my combat skills—the way I want to.

I would love to work with him, Rufus. To show him what I'm made of. To get to talk to him again. I know I'm being silly, but it is just a harmless fascination. Nothing will come of it.

"Right. Nothing will come of it," I tell myself.

The words barely leave my mouth when I approach the elevator on the Turk floor, intending to pass by it on my way to the break room, and I see Rufus ShinRa himself stepping out of it. He turns in the direction of Tseng's office, away from me. Before I can stop myself, I call out to him.

"President!" I say, making large strides to catch up to him.

Rufus stops and turns around, his gaze landing on me. Is it just me, or does his neutral expression seem to change ever so slightly when he realizes it is me? No. Of course not. Why would it? The thing about him not biting was a silly joke.

I'm not even sure what he meant by that.

"Hey, sir," I say lamely.

"Hello, Elena. Can I help you with something?" he says. I realize that he has his cell phone in his hand. His tone is cool, crisp, and short but not completely unpleasant.

"I'm sorry, did I interrupt your call?" I say, pulling an apologetic face. The last thing I want is to inconvenience him.

Rufus glances down at his phone and presses the 'end' button. "It wasn't important."

"Ohhh well... just saying hi. I haven't seen you in a while," I say, stuffing my hands in my pockets and shifting from foot to foot. I start chewing on the inside of my cheek.

"Well, I've been busy. As have you," Rufus says, pushing his free hand through his hair.

"What brings you down...here?" I say, wanting to find any way to continue our conversation. I've played scenarios of what I would say to him the next time I saw him, and now here we are and I'm at a loss.

"I feel like pestering your commander," Rufus says with a slight smirk and a hint of sarcasm.

"I'm sure he enjoys the company," I say, trying to match his tone. Rufus laughs barely, lightly. "Well...it's good to see you sir." I smile up at him.

Rufus arches a brow, a slight smirk appearing on his face. There is a glint in his eyes. "It's good to see you too. You look good."

I feel myself blush. What does he mean that I look good? Surely he doesn't mean that. There isn't much to see in this ShinRa issue Turk uniform.

"Oh, thank you, sir. I feel good. I've had a lot of energy this week. I think being a Turk agrees with me." It is true, I've been going on more assignments, even if they weren't the ones I am looking forward to. If only someone would've attempted to assassinate Scarlet or blow up those scientists, then I'd have something to write home about.

"I'm glad it does," Rufus says.

"Me too," I say. A brief pocket of silence follows. I stare at him.

After a moment, Rufus steps forward and places a hand on my shoulder.

The warmth, the weight of his touch sends heat up my neck and to my cheeks. He opens his mouth to speak, and I'm hanging on to the potential of his words, leaning towards him as if drawn by magnets.

And then, the moment is shattered, and I never know what he's going to say because a voice behind us cuts through the air like a sword.

"Am I interrupting something?" Tseng is standing at the door to his office.

Rufus' smirk seems more pronounced and more self-satisfied. I turn towards Tseng, feeling Rufus remove his hand from my shoulder. I feel embarrassed, like I've been caught doing something I shouldn't have been doing.

"Not at all, Tseng," Rufus says. "Just greeting Elena, here."

"I see," Tseng says, his gaze falling on me. He has a frown on his face, furrowing his brow. He seems bothered by something. My face grows hot, and I look away.

Have I done something wrong? Not wanting to find out, I dismiss myself with a quick goodbye and head into my office, leaving the door open just in case he decides to stop by. Silly, but I wouldn't mind talking to him again.

He doesn't. Stop by, that is. I don't even know when he finally leaves the Turk floor. Dumb for me to think he would stop by. Why would he? Why should I care?

It doesn't matter, I decide. Soon, thoughts of Rufus are pushed far from my mind, because when Reno and Rude come in for the day, they decide to take it up on themselves to spar with me in one of the ShinRa gyms. Just as well since we aren't busy otherwise and this is an excuse for them to avoid writing up reports on those recent missions. Missions that I wasn't assigned to go on.

I do better than I expect, even though Rude packs a powerful punch and exploits any openings in your defense, and Reno's faster and wilder than the average person.

Well, to rephrase, I do better than they expect. Or, in Reno's words: "Pretty good for a ShinRa Academy brat." I let his remark slide. I didn't have good marks at the ShinRa military academy for nothing. Good thing we have healing materia on hand.

A few hours and a few bruises later finds me sitting in my office staring up at the ceiling wondering what Rufus is doing on the 70th floor, which is better than being pissed about being passed over for an assignment. The guys were called out on a last-minute assignment with Heidegger. I wasn't needed.

The sound of rain pounding against the ceiling and against the glass is my only company.

Once again, I'm replaying all of the little moments we've had in my head. They're nothing. They're little. Meaningless to him for sure. But, it gives me a rush to think he may be flirting with me. Even a little bit. It's probably nothing serious. Rufus ShinRa wouldn't go for a girl like me—and why would I want him to? He's my boss, and that is not why I am a Turk. Yeah, that'll sure earn me some respect around the office: sleeping with the boss and having only been here for a sprinkling of weeks.

Yeah right. What good would that do a woman who's never had a proper boyfriend for more than a few weeks — because ShinRa Academy boys got really pissy when girl half their size could throw them clean across a room — and the last time she was really kissed, she was still wearing a plaid skirt and pigtails? What would I even do in a serious relationship?

Focus on being a better Turk than my sister—that's what I'll do. That's what I'm here for. I just gotta convince Tseng and the others that I'm capable. To let them see what I'm made of.

I scoff to myself, shaking thoughts of Rufus from my head. Besides, there are more important things to attend to like convincing Tseng to let me go on an assignment alone, or better yet, an important assignment. I know he's still wary of me after I blurted out confidential information to Cloud and his friends, in spite of what he says.

Take charge, that's what I'll do.

I get up from my desk and head down the hall to Tseng's office. I'm gonna demand a solo assignment.

The commander's office was either at the end of the hall or the beginning, depending on which way I enter the floor. From my own office, it is at the end of the hall. I can enter either from the stairwell that is on the other end of the hall or on the elevator that is near the lounge and the commander's office. There was a sprinkling of a few other private offices directly in front of the commander's office on either side of the hallway.

Mine is on the left side of the hall with empty offices on either side of it. On the right side of the hall is Reno and Rude's offices, side by side and nearest the commander's large window-covered office—which has the blinds closed most of the time. Reno's office is directly across the hall from my own. Then there is the lounge area and an open area with empty desks and unused computers sitting like monuments of the past.

At first I was pleasantly surprised that I — a rookie — would get an office, but then I realized that the only reason that I had one was because it would be pointless to have me sitting at one of those cubicles alone. They had free office space, so why not use it? I wonder what my sister Elyssia was like when she was here.

The closer I get to the commander's door, the more my stomach tightens. I remind myself to keep good posture once I'm in front of him. Every time I'm around him, I feel like I'm being judged. Like somehow, the way that I hold myself might reveal how good of a Turk I will turn out to be. Or that he knows that I have a crush on him. Eeek.

There is a moment of silence when I knock, and I think I hear I him tell me to come in, but I am not sure. I don't want to hesitate and make him repeat himself, and I definitely do not want to have to knock again. What if he thinks I have a hearing problem? That will be strike one won't it? Or maybe strike three; I wasn't sure if I'd actually gotten any strikes yet. Maybe I forgot to address him properly once or twice, and now I was already on strike five? How many strikes until he decides that I'm not good enough?

I remind myself to maintain eye contact no matter how much I want to look away, then I push the door open gently, it slips open only a crack without making a sound. I can see him, sitting at his desk in the warm glow of a desk lamp and his computer screen.

His office always seems a little dark; I think he likes it that way.

He is sitting at his desk completely unaware of my presence. It quickly dawns on me that he never heard me knock because I was knocking way too softly. He is reading over something on his desk, with a slight frown etched in his dark brows. He is leaning over it slightly, in an almost relaxed position, with one arm resting on the desk and his hand dangling off the edge of it, brushing his suit ever so often. The other hand is buried in his hair as he rested his head against it.

Quickly, I knock against the door frame. He looks up, seemingly unruffled by the fact that I slipped up on him unannounced.

"I'm sorry, sir. I knocked but…" I trail off.

"You're still here? I thought you'd left. It's late," Tseng replies.

In the silence that follows, the only sound is the rain beyond these walls and rumbles of thunder.

His gaze meets mine. He has such dark brown eyes; in certain light, they seem completely black. He doesn't crack a smile; in fact, his jaw seems to clench only a little. I wish I'd just waited for him to realize I was at the door. Barging into the commander's office can't be a good thing.

"Um, I lost track of time."

"Understandable," Tseng says, sitting up a straighter in his chair. He rests his hands on the file he was reading and gives me his attention. "What do you want?"

At this point, I am used to Tseng's terse manner of speaking; he gets to the point and doesn't seem to like holding pointless conversations, at least not with me. It always makes him seem like he was slightly annoyed, but he is actually always polite and calm. Always saying thank you and please—even if those formalities are actually orders that cannot be refused.

"Well, I wanted to talk to you about something that has been on my mind recently. If you have time, sir."

"Ok," Tseng says. "Take a seat."

I obey, making my way across his office and pull out a chair. I sit down in the chair directly across from him. And then I scooch up to the desk and then look up, meeting his gaze. His eyes seem browner up close. His black eyelashes make them seem black though. I hold his gaze, nervous.

He is studying me. I consciously try to rearrange my face; I know that I probably look more than a little freaked out.

"It is about my assignments."

I hear Tseng take a soft intake of breath. He is about to say something. I brace myself for some sort of criticism.

"What about them?"

I rub my sweaty palms against the fabric of my pants. "Well sir. I feel like I could be doing more. I know all of the changes at ShinRa kinda put my training on the back-burner, but things have calmed down now."

"Your point?" Tseng, always straightforward.

"Well sir," I say evenly, "Well..."

"Speak your mind, Elena."

"Yes sir." I hate that I have such a strong desire to impress him. Even now, knowing he's let the incident at the Mines go, I still feel silly. I am embarrassed. I want him to be proud of me, I want him to be in awe of me. I want him to...I don't know. There's just something about him. Maybe that's why I'm always taking second and third glances at him when he's not looking.

"Reno and Rude are on assignment, and I'm not." I say. As I heard the words leave my mouth, I feel a little silly. A little whiny. That isn't how I should've started this.

Tseng, as serious as ever, inclines his head slightly. "Yes. Which is why I'm confused as to why you're still here. You should be at home or something."

"I should've been on that assignment, sir," I say with a little more conviction.

"Why do you think that? Heidegger specifically requested those two for the assignment," Tseng says.

"I want more field experience," I say.

Tseng is silent for a moment. He studies me for a moment. "What you mean is that you want more high-profile assignments."

"Well, yes sir. So far, I've only escorted one executive and that was for Scarlet's party. The most that happened there was someone spilled a drink on her expensive dress and she nearly stabbed them with a fork. We're not her personal bodyguards, sir."

"Technically, you are since you were protecting one of ShinRa's interests, but I see your point. However, Rude was on that assignment with you, yes?"

"Yes sir."

"Did he complain?"

"No sir," I say, looking down at the desk. I know where this is going.

"And he's been a Turk for quite a bit longer than you. Granted, he also started at a younger age than you. On the other assignment, with the scientists, did Reno complain?"

"No, he did hit on a couple of the women scientists though."

"Such is Reno," Tseng says dismissively. "Do you see my point, though?"

"That these two senior-level, experienced Turks..." I begin, and trail off.

Tseng finishes it. "They did what they were asked to do and don't take it personally when it isn't exciting. Yes, you need more experience, but it will come. Everything you do is a learning experience, Elena. And, in the future, you may find that you actually prefer these more low-key assignments. The point is, you need to be patient. Don't jump ahead of yourself."

"Yes sir, I'm sorry. It is just that..."

"Yes?"

"Nothing, sir."

"I'm judging you based on you, Elena," Tseng says after a moment of silence. "Not on anyone else."

Not on my sister, Elyssia.

"Of course sir."

"You will rise and fall based on your merits," Tseng continues, "Don't let your ambition get in your way."

"Yes sir," I agree automatically before the words can really sink in.

"You'll get more assignments Elena, and I hope you won't complain every time one doesn't involve you nearly dying," Tseng says, raising a brow slightly.

"Yes sir. I'll leave you alone now," I say, pushing the chair back.

"Okay. Try to get some rest," Tseng says.

"You too, sir," I say without looking at him. I rise from the chair and straighten out my suit.

Tseng's words resonate in my mind and the more I think of them, the less proud of myself I feel. He's right of course. I really should be patient. I'm a junior Turk. Everyone was a junior Turk first. I shouldn't have brought it up. I came off over-eager and immature. Being a Turk isn't always glamorous with explosions and ass-kickings and protecting President ShinRa with your body. Sometimes watching scientists take samples and protecting them is the job. I bet Elyssia never complained.

I go to my office, get my umbrella and head for the stairs, taking the long way down to the employee parking lot. Tseng's right, I think to myself while heading across the rain drenched parking lot, fighting the wind for my umbrella.

This is business. It is nothing personal.

I reach my car and dig in my pockets with my free hand, looking for my keys. Phone, ID badge—no keys.

An image of them sitting by the computer flashes across my mind. My apartment keys are also on that ring, but I have a spare hidden near the front door.

With a growl of frustration, I decide that I'm not going back up those stairs to get my keys. I know how to hotwire a car. Even if it is a ShinRa car. I just need to get inside.

Just as the thought crosses my mind, a particularly strong wind rips my umbrella from my hands and flings it across the parking lot. A downpour of rain falls on me, soaking my hair and clothes within seconds, and blinding me.

Stifling a swear, I ignore the cold sliding down my back, into my scalp, and drenching my suit. Stupidly, I tug on the door really hard, hoping it will open for me. I force my hair from my eyes and look around the car. Maybe I can break a window.

No need. The passenger window is down slightly, meaning the interior of my car is getting wet, but more importantly, I will be able to get inside.

I manage to get my hand into the door and then my wrist through the opening, but my fingers can't reach the lock. My fingers dangle there helplessly as my forearm is caught by the glass. Another rumble comes from overhead and yet another flash of lightening shoots across the sky.

Then there is the sound of tires on pavement and the soft hum of a motor. Turning around, I see a mysterious silver, expensive-looking car with tinted windows purring idly beside me. I bite my lip and pushed my wet hair from my face again.

The driver's window slides down, and through the thick blanket of rain, I received a shock.

"Rufus, sir?"

Sure enough, the person in the car is none other than the president. There's no one else who could be mistaken for Rufus ShinRa. Further proof comes when he lifts a casual hand from the steering wheel and pushes golden hair from his face—only for it to fall back again.

"Problem?"

Rain continues to blind me and soak through my clothes and skin, sending involuntary shivers through me. I feel like a drowned rat, and I'm sure I look even worse. My bottom lip trembles from cold; I bite my lip to stop myself from looking like a lost five-year-old on the brink of tears.

"I can't find my keys," I say. I really want to tell him that yes there is a damn problem.

"Come, get in. I'll take you home."

My brain short-circuits. I stand there, unable to move or speak.

"Don't make me beg," Rufus says, easily. I can hear him perfectly over the rain thundering over us, but I swear he's not actually shouting.

"What?" I finally say. "I'm soaked."

"Don't worry about my car," Rufus says. "There are more where this one came from."

A brilliant bolt of lightning flashes overhead, sending a momentary blindness into my eyes as it lights up the parking lot.

I run around to the other side and pulling at the slippery door handle. The interior light comes out and despite the rain pouring down my back; I take a split second to admire the cream-colored leather seats.

"Well are you going to get in?" His stare brings me back to reality.

"Oh..yeah! I'm sorry..I'm..yeah." The painfully loud squeaks from water and leather makes me wince as I slide into the warm interior of his car and shut the door putting us instantly into darkness.

I push my hair out of my face, and trying to ignore the fact that I'm dripping, I begin to talk.

"You don't strike me as the type to splurge, in spite of well...being the richest man in the world. So why do you have so many cars?" The sound of the rain pounding around us is instantly muted, and the faint scent of Rufus' cologne fills the air.

"For security reasons, they say," Rufus answers, looking over at me.

He's leaning back against the seat, one hand on the steering wheel and the other on the automatic gear shift stick. While I buckle my seatbelt, Rufus puts the car in drive and makes his way out of the parking lot. He focuses on the road, and I stare openly. We stop at a traffic light.

"Sir, you know you didn't have to do this."

Rufus chuckles ever so lightly. "You're right. I could have just let you injure yourself trying to smash the bulletproof window of your car and find a way in. I'm sure that was your intention right? Or were you going to just stand out there looking like a helpless, wet dog?"

"I was gonna hotwire it, sir," I admit. A wet dog?!

"Of course you were."

"You know how to hotwire a car, sir?" I ask. I know he probably doesn't, but I ask anyway. Something tells me not to assume anything about a ShinRa.

"I'm afraid not," Rufus says. "I've never been in a situation where that would be a necessity."

"Really? My dad taught me how," I say with a snort. "He regretted it immediately because I kept running off with his sports car before I was even old enough to legally drive."

Rufus laughs slightly. "Isn't the rebellious-teen-running-away-with-father's-car supposed to be my cliché, not yours?"

"I'm sure you did all of the above and more, sir," I say.

Rufus doesn't say anything to that, other than scoff ever so lightly.

In the silence that follows, I lean against the door and stare out of the window into the thick blanket of rain. The most I can see is blurry street lights and stoplights. Rufus is driving with confidence in spite of the weather.

My thoughts drift. I want to say something to him, anything.

And it isn't anything, it isn't like he's gonna propose to me right here and we'll run away to marry and then I'll return as the vice president of ShinRa. This is just Rufus ShinRa being nice to one of his employees.

Heh. That doesn't sound right.

Rufus ShinRa being nice to an employee?

I stay silent instead of saying anything else. Soon I discover that staring out of the window isn't going to yield much interest, and it has very little to do with the fact that the rain is almost difficult to see through. Then my attention catches two fat raindrops sliding down the window. They are neck and neck, and I am sure one of them will get the lead until "Rude" got too close to "Reno" and they become a super raindrop together and the race ends in a tie.

I pull my gaze away from the window. "Sir, we've seen a lot of each other lately. You've been pretty...nice to me lately." I pick at a loose hangnail.

"Have I? I didn't notice. I'm kind to all of my employees."

"No offense, but that is such crap, sir," I say before I can stop myself.

Rufus laughs slightly and taps his fingers rhythmically on the steering wheel as we stop at another light. "I agree. Is that odd to you? Perhaps I'm doing this because I expect something out of it. Maybe I have an ulterior motive."

"I didn't mean it like that, sir."

He chuckles darkly and runs his free hand through his hair; it falls elegantly back into place. "Surely the thought crossed your mind."

He is right, it definitely has crossed my mind several times. In my defense, the thoughts are such light whispers that I barely pay any attention to them. I keep telling myself that it doesn't matter one way or the other anyway. That it is all in my head.

"Not really, sir."

"Not really," he glances at me as we pass another streetlight; his eyes narrow. "Do you always do that?"

"Do..what..sir?"

"That thing with your lips."

"Just a nervous habit, I don't realize I even do it sometimes."

We are moving again. He is silent; he seems to be taking in my words. I risk a glance in his direction. The light from the streets reveal he is smirking slightly.

"So you are nervous right now."

"Um...well...yes..." I bite on my lip hard and run my palms over my thighs. My wet pants feel like a second skin.

"So I make you nervous?"

"Yes," I answer before I can stop myself. "Not...like...in a bad way...in an um...in a good way."

Oh shut up Elena. Shut up!

"A good way?" Rufus says. I think it is a rhetorical question, so I don't reply. He stares ahead, his gaze observing the changing conditions of the road. I look away out of the window—I am showing my cards, aren't I?

"Yeah..." I trailed off, there is no way I am digging my grave and putting the dirt on top too.

"Hmm..I see."

He sees? What does he see? There is nothing to see!

Silence.

"The storm seems to be getting worse...if that's possible." I don't want that silence to come back. Who knows what he could be thinking and 'hmm I seeing' about. "It hasn't rained like this in ages…I like storms...but I don't like lightning and thunder. I like to sit and watch it sometimes...especially if it's late at night and I can't sleep. I've danced in the rain a few times actually. When I was little, my sister and I would play in the rain and I—"

"You also talk even more than normal when you're nervous," Rufus says, observant.

"I'm sorry..."

"In a good way, of course," he says, stressing the words "good" and "way" in a sarcastic manner.

I look up; he is looking at me again, and that amused smirk again is prominent. I blush and look away to the intersection we're currently halted at. Is it just me, or are there a lot of traffic lights when taking this route?

"A good way, sir?"

Once again there is a lingering silence. I run a hand through my wet hair and wish quietly that I was dry.

We turn onto another road, a more familiar one. Quietly, I wish we weren't already so close to my apartment building. How often do I get to be in a confined, dark place with Rufus ShinRa? And no, I don't mean in that weird dream I had the other night!

"Sir….I was wondering," I start, but stop. I want to ask him about what you meant about not biting unless asking.

"Yes?"

"Oh nothing, sir."

"Well it had to be something otherwise you wouldn't have said it."

"I..no it's nothing sir. I should shut up."

"That's never stopped you before. You don't strike me as someone who does what they should."

An odd little laugh fills up the silence that follows; sadly that laugh comes from me.

"I'm sorry. I do have a tendency to talk a lot. Once my sister almost convinced my grandmother to convince my father to get my head scanned to see if there was some sort of neurological reason why I couldn't stop talking once I got started. Sometimes I'd strike up a conversation with strangers just to hear myself talk—at least that's what my sister told grandma—though they might have been on to something. Once it actually came to bite me in the ass because—haha—I approached this strange creepy man that camped out in a hole near our house and I talked to him a lot. He was really nice to me and offered me some weird black stuff but that's when my dad came and dragged me away. Weird really. I guess I do talk too much…I should stop talking so much huh? Like…right..now..sorry, sir. Tseng is always telling me that I talk too much."

"Tseng," Rufus says, "always so straightforward."

I laugh, uncertainly. "You think I talk too much, too?"

Rufus doesn't answer the question, instead he says, "I wouldn't take what Tseng says too seriously."

He is aware that I gave out confidential information to our enemies right? I know he knows. I know Tseng told him, and if he didn't, then he read about it in the report. And yet, there is no comment on it. Maybe I'm the only one who hasn't let it go yet.

"Tseng's right about most things, sir," I say.

"You seem to hold him in high-esteem," Rufus remarks. He seems to find this revelation interesting as opposed to disturbing.

"Well of course, he's my commander," I say. I have to be careful, what if he repeats what I say back to Tseng? I have to remember that Rufus ShinRa isn't a coworker taking me home; this man is my boss. He's everyone's boss.

"Hmmm," Rufus says, almost to himself. He doesn't comment on it further.

In the lull that follows, I find myself watching him again. The street lights cross over his face, illuminating the contours, the shadows, the lines of his profile. Is it possible for someone to be this handsome and elegant?

"Gah, I can barely take my eyes off him..."

"I'm flattered, Elena."

"Nononononoonono I did not just say that out loud!"

"I'm afraid you did."

"Nononono I did not say thatout loud too-"

"Relax," Rufus says with a light laugh. "It isn't life or death."

"I know that sir, but you...well...you kind of freak me out."

"That's a good thing I hope?" Rufus says, looking over at me.

"I...shouldn't you be paying attention to the road?"

A slow smirk materializes on his lips. "We've stopped outside of your apartment."

I look around. He's right, we're on the sidewalk near my apartment building in sector 8. A tall, glass structure made of black glass. Turks, soldiers and other ShinRa employees who live in this building can see out but no one can see in.

"You know you didn't have to do this," I say.

"I know."

I reach for the door handle. Why won't' the door open?!

"Why did you, sir?"

I'm trapped!

"Well, of course I wanted to get you alone with me," he says smoothly. Just when I am sure my brain is about to fry like an egg in a skillet, I realize he's joking.

Either way, my heart was thumping rapidly against my ribs begging to be freed from its cage so it could smash through the windshield and run off laughing down the rain slicked streets. I bite my bottom lip hard, pretty sure I am going to draw blood, and totally forget my mission of opening the door and escaping to my apartment so I can slap myself in private.

I move to open the door again, but Rufus tells me to hold on.

Is he going to kiss me? Of course not.

Rufus opens his own door, letting in cool air and rain, and steps out of the car and crosses to the front of the car holding a large black umbrella. He pulls open my door, letting in droplets of rain. Rufus extends a hand—probably an automatic gesture from his upbringing that has little do with who or what I am—and I slip my smaller hand into his, allowing him to help me out onto the sidewalk and safely under the umbrella.

"I'm already soaked, sir," I say as I come in underneath the shelter of the umbrella. Rain sparkles around us, coming down around us in sheets.

"Yes, I suppose that is true, but it would be poor form to let you go to the door without an umbrella."

The streetlights catch a smirk on his face.

He releases my hand and offers his arm—another artifact from his aristocratic upbringing. It is a big umbrella, enough for three people, but we don't wander too far apart. I get as close as possible and rest my hand around his forearm, touching the soft, crisp fabric of his sleeve and the firm muscle beneath.

Rufus leads the way quickly, but with ease, instead of in short, feverish steps like mine. Rain dances around us and our feet. Some makes it into my boots as we navigate around a puddle. We reach the stairs beneath the protection of the apartment awning.

"Sir," I say, stepping from beneath the umbrella and facing him. "Thank you, you didn't have to."

"True. But I wanted to," Rufus says, looking at me. For a second, I forget to breathe.

"I'll see you around, Elena," Rufus says.

"Okay, sir," I say.

"Rufus, remember?" he says, flashing an easy half-smile — no a smirk. Always a smirk.

"Right. Rufus," I say nodding.

Rufus smirks slightly and turns away, making his way down the stairs. I watch him go until he's in his car and the headlights are cutting through the darkness and his taillights disappear around a corner.

He was just being nice, right?

My mother always said that people don't do something unless there's a reason behind it. And then there are people like Rufus ShinRa. I wonder…what could he possibly want with me?

Or maybe he was just being nice.

I mean, we are going to be seeing a lot of each other.

On assignments.

Nothing more.

Even if there was something going on, what would I do with Rufus fricken ShinRa?


	5. The Proposal

I messed up.

Finally, I get an assignment, a simple mission, and I mess up. It really was Reno and Rude's mission, but I was there to shadow them.

The assignment was one where stealth was important and I accidentally alerted our mark to our presence.

Stealth has never been one of my strong points, but that's no excuse.

If it wasn't for some quick thinking on Rude's part—knocking the guy out in one swift move—who knows what would've happened. That is not okay. That can't keep happening. What happens when I go on an assignment alone and Rude or Reno aren't there to back me up?

Reno said he preferred Rude's approach to what Tseng had specified anyway, but that's not the point. Yeah they didn't seem to be too bothered by it, and when it was over, we all piled into the helicopter with the information we'd come for, but still.

What happens when Tseng finds out?

There's no use worrying about it, there isn't anything I can do until we get there. And now here I am, sitting with my cheek pressed against the cool glass of the helicopter, staring out of the window as we re-enter Midgar's airspace.

I'm almost certain I've successfully turned myself into part of the helicopter, which seems to be working because Reno and Rude don't seem to be paying me any attention. That is, until Reno decides to pay me attention.

"Laney?" Reno's voice crackles in my headset. "You good back there?"

He's started calling me that now. I'm not sure how I feel about it, since he only calls me that when he's up to something. It makes me feel like I'm more part of the team and it isn't as formal my actual name, but I never know with Reno.

Rude glances back at me over his shoulder. I sit up straight. "Yeah, I'm good."

"Let it go Laney," Reno says. "You're not the first person to screw up in the field. Ask Tseng. He's got lots of tales. You'd be surprised."

"I'm not —"

"Yeah you are," Reno says, taking his hands off the controls to wave me off. "You're doing what you always do, which is start overthinking everything and freaking out. What did I tell you?"

"To relax?"

"Exactly. It's all good."

"But when Tseng finds out..."

"The assignment went well," Rude interrupts. When he speaks, I feel more inclined to listen since he doesn't offer his opinion often. "We accomplished the mission. There isn't anything else to discuss. How things went down doesn't matter in the end game."

"Exactly," Reno says, regarding his partner for a second. "What Tseng doesn't know won't hurt him, and sometimes he doesn't want to know exactly how we completed a mission. Rude is never wrong—except when it comes to women."

Rude scoffs. I manage to smile slightly. Maybe they're right. Maybe it doesn't matter that much. I sit back in the seat and stare out of the window again. We're above Midgar, heading for the landing pads at ShinRa headquarters.

After a few moments of silence, Reno slaps Rude on the arm. "Hey Rude?"

Rude responds in his usual calm voice. How he manages to take any question Reno asks with such collected demeanor is a mystery to me. I can just tell by Reno's tone that whatever is going to come out of his mouth is going to be absurd.

"What's up?"

"At the company, of everyone we work with, who would you bang?"

Point proven.

"What?" Rude's voice didn't sound as surprised as my face looks reflected back at me in the helicopter's tinted glass. He's used to Reno's weird questions.

"You heard me, man. Oh, and before you try to cheap out and say Laney back there, to up the ante, this is a guy-only question. Of the men we work with, who? Hypothetically?"

"Are you serious?" Rude asks, his tone flat and sarcastic. "Why do I have to deal with you?"

And what the heck does he mean by 'cheap out'?

Rude doesn't say anything, not bothering to justify Reno's stupid question with another response. Reno laughs to himself.

The answer to Reno's question hangs in the air until we land at the ShinRa building.

They continue to talk as we get out of the helicopter, with Reno being adamant about getting an answer from Rude. He keeps throwing out suggestions, but Rude refuses to answer.

I lug a few things from the helicopter and walk beside them, trying to figure out a way to join the chat. But what can I contribute to a conversation like that? Reno will probably say something perverted anyway. I can only imagine where he cooks up half the crazy stuff in his head.

"Hey rookie, what do you think?"

"Stop calling me that," I say.

"Would you also want me to call an apple an orange? Answer the question, will ya? Laney?"

Reno is walking between me and Rude. Yeah, Laney is a way better nickname than rookie or what the kids in Icicle used to call me.

Dumb kids and their stupid 'clever' nicknames. Just because I scaled a 30 foot landmark to chase a guy who'd crawled up there running from me. Just because I broke his nose and he was the 'cutest' boy in the neighborhood (until I broke his nose). Just because I was five and he was fifteen when it happened. He started it. I finished it. They should have been worshiping me, not pelting me with snowballs.

Anyway.

"I dunno. I've never really thought about something like that."

Reno scoffs. I sigh inwardly.

"Um..Scarlet?"

He snorts, casting a glance in my direction. Sometimes his eyes look blue, today in the dreary daylight, they look green. What ishis eye color? They seem to change depending on his mood.

"Way out of your league."

Scarlet, the big-breasted forty-something platinum blond bombshell executive that always wore questionable red outfits and pumps would never be my 'type' if I had a type. Twice she almost sat on me, claiming she didn't see me. She's always glaring out at people from under her too long, obviously fake eyelashes, and her long, curved fake red nails look like talons. But every time I find it hard to believe she's the head of the Weapons Department, she makes it clear why she is.

So yes, while I can respect her I could never want her in this hypothetical scenario.

But why are we having this conversation anyway?

Oh. I know: Reno.

"Whatever Reno, maybe she's out of mine," I say.

"You're right, Laney," he reaches over and takes the big black bag from my hands, "you're way cuter."

A sly grin creeps on his lips making him appear sultry, cunning, and catlike all at once.

"Right." I quickly stare at my feet. Heat rushes up in my face, creeping from my neck to my cheeks. "Whatever...you hit on everyone..."

I feel his hand on my shoulder. "No I don't. I'm not hitting on you. You are like a sister or something to me..." Reno says, his voice close to my ear.

"Uh huh..." I say in my most deadpan tone. "Like a sister? You sure about that?"

"Not yet, you have to earn it. You're a bit of a flake."

"I am not a flake!"

"Rude, is she or is she not a flake?"

Rude clears his throat, but otherwise doesn't respond.

"Which brings me back to you Rude. Dude, I'm gonna be honest..."

Rude opens the door to the roof. We head down a short flight of stairs and head toward a silver elevator. I wince inwardly. Today is not the day to be brave on this thing. This one in particular rattles, shakes, and squeaks. What if we get stuck?

I hate elevators. I just don't want to let them notice. What if I become that Turk-That-Swooned-That-Time-On-The-Elevator? Flying a helicopter is all fine and good, but elevators? I'd rather take a third option.

"...I'd choose you, man..." Reno is saying.

"I'm not sure if I should be disturbed or flattered," Rude remarks, nonplussed.

"Both," Reno says. "Definitely both."

The elevator opens for them and Rude steps on. Rude holds it open for me. A smile twitches on my lips at the gesture. I slip out of Reno's hold and let him make his way into the elevator without me.

"You coming?" Rude asks, quietly, peeking around the door. He's standing at the controls.

"I'll...uh...take the stairs," I say, not moving towards the doors anymore.

Reno raises a brow, incredulous. "Are you afraid of elevators?"

"Whaaaaaaaat?" I say with a not-so-convincing, shrill laugh. "Nooooo."

"Rude, hold the door, will ya?"

Rude apparently does just that because while I can't see him from where he's standing now, but the doors don't shut as Reno puts the black bag down and steps out of the elevator, hands on his hips. "You're going to get on this elevator. You're a Turk."

"They make me a little sick, that's all. I'm not afraid of them," I say, stepping back slowly.

"We can do this the hard way or the easy way, the choice is yours," Reno grins.

I could run.

"I wouldn't try that Elena, I'm faster than you," Reno's grin gets bigger. I get the impression of being cornered by a feral cat.

"And I can knock you out without even trying," I counter.

"You'd have to land the punch first," Reno says. We're circling one another.

"Try me," I say.

"Turk-on-Turk violence is a shame," Reno says. "Give in. What do you plan to do? Take the stairs?"

"Yep!"

"That's hundreds of flights of stairs," Reno's grin gets even bigger.

"You're not going to leave me be, are you?" I say, steadily moving away from him.

"There is no way out of this, Laney!" Reno shouts like a battle cry, and before I know it, he's grabbed me around the waist and my feet leave the ground.

"GET OFF!" I shout, my voice carrying down the hall. We scuffle for a moment, I almost get loose, but Reno's grip is tight, and somewhere along the lines, all of my training flies completely out of the window as I kick and scream like a—well—like a useless, defenseless girl.

I'm carried across the floor to the elevator in spite of all of my kicking and screaming and land in a heap in the corner of the elevator. The doors close. I pick myself up off the floor, springing onto my feet.

"I'll kill you."

Reno waves my threat off while straightening his clothes, smug. "That's no way to talk to one of your superiors. And hey, you'll thank me."

"Rude, you're gonna let him do me like that?" As I speak, the elevator lurches upward, my knees buckle, and it is all I can do not to throw up.

Rude shrugs, looking over at me with a slightly amused expression. "I agree with Reno on this one."

"I don't hear that one every day," Reno says.

"For good reason," Rude replies dryly. He smoothly adjusts his sunglasses and tie and watches the numbers crawling upward.

"Jerk," Reno scoffs, good-naturedly.

Rude shrugs, "Say what you will."

They're right of course, even though this elevator rattles, creaks, and shakes, it is maintained by ShinRa maintenance, and it probably won't suddenly plummet several stories to our deaths. And, thanks to the botched security system, this elevator ride will be short anyway, it'll deposit us about 13 floors below our own, and we'll have to get off and take a different elevator up.

That's when I can make my break for it.

I close my eyes, clinging to the metal railing and listen to the whistling sound between the elevator's crevices as it rushes downward. It only lasts a few seconds, but it feels like hours. It comes to a shuddering stop, making my knees buckle again. As it settles into the floor, I stand up straight and open my eyes. Of all the elevators, I hate the ones from the roof the most. Reno and Rude are looking at me, their arms crossed, little amused smiles on their faces.

The doors open with a cheerful ding, and I feel sick.

"C'mon Laney, the worst is almost over," Reno says holding out a hand.

"Your death will be swift," I grumble, slapping his hand away and pushing past them both.

"Laney, don't be like that," Reno says behind me.

This floor isn't anything particular; it is just a large lounge area filled with tables and chairs, snack machines, lots of windows, and a few employees are sitting around, talking and eating their lunches.

I head for the stairs only for Reno to grab me by the arm and start pulling me towards the elevator.

"Let me go," I say in what I hope is a very threatening tone. "You know I can very easily get out of this. I will chop it off."

"Like I haven't heard that before," Reno laughs, "Get in that elevator."

Rude is already standing at the elevator, holding the door, amused.

I'm going to have dignity and not cause a scene. I jerk my arm out of Reno's grip and I walk to the elevator myself and step on. Reno follows, patting me on the shoulder.

"Good girl."

"Bite me."

"Where?"

"Uggh."

"Laney, please. Not while Rude is watching."

The doors close and I brace myself in a corner, holding the handle. Reno leans against the wall near Rude, watching the numbers. The elevator only goes up a couple of floors before it stops, and the doors slide open to reveal a familiar face.

"Sierra?" I say, standing up a little straighter.

"Hey!" Sierra steps onto the elevator, a small grin playing on her red lips. Her brown-eyed gaze darts to Reno and Rude. She says hello. Rude speaks. Reno gives her lingering look and a slight nod. When she turns her back to them to face me, I see Reno casually taking her in with his gaze from her feet to her head and back again, a pleased look on his face.

Sierra's holding a stack of files against her chest, all marked 'confidential'. She's wearing pair of turquoise pumps, a black pencil skirt, her black lab coat and a turquoise blouse. Her pin-straight hair is flowing freely down her back today.

"So!" I say, tapping Sierra on the shoulder. She turns toward me. "It is good to see you again."

"Great seeing you too," she says, giving me a warm smile, then she turns back to face the front of the elevator. I shift from foot to foot, anxious. I don't have any close girlfriends, especially not in Midgar, not since I moved away. This could be the beginning of a great friendship, right?

"So... maybe we could hang out or chat or something sometimes. If that's OK," I blurt. I catch Reno roll his eyes in the background. Rude looks disinterested.

Sierra starts and looks over at me, another smile crossing her lips. "Sure. That'd be fine. I'll give you my personal number." She pats the pockets of her lab coat and scoffs. "Forgot my phone, great. Have a pen?"

From behind her, Reno taps her on the shoulder with a pen that has magically appeared in his hand. She looks over her shoulder and takes hold of it, but Reno doesn't let it go until she lets out a little laugh and pulls on it a bit harder. He finally releases it with a little shrug. His antics get a smile from her and her brown cheeks darken in a blush.

Reno looks a little too satisfied with himself. I should shove him out of the elevator shaft.

She takes my hand and starts scribbling her number with the pen. It tickles a little, the pen's rollerball brushing against my skin, but I manage to hold in a laugh. "There. I look forward to hanging out with you."

The elevator comes to a stop. "This is my floor," Sierra says waving to all of us.

"Hey!" Reno calls out, stopping the elevator door. "You forgot to give me back my pen!" He says this while putting the black bag from the helicopter on the floor and following Sierra out. As the doors close, I see Reno putting his arm around Sierra's shoulder.

"Rude, he's gonna ruin Sierra for me," I say. The elevator begins a smooth descent upward, with only the slightest lurch.

"Probably," Rude remarks. He looks over at me briefly and offers a slight shrug.

We make it up to our floor in comfortable silence. Rude grabs the bag and steps out first. I follow him. We pass Tseng's office. The door is sitting open and he's in there typing something up on the computer.

"How did it go?"

Rude and I exchange a glance. Before we can say anything, Tseng sighs and tells us to just write it in the report.

Rude and I go our separate ways, with him going into his office and shutting the door. I go into my office, the door sitting wide open, and plop down into my chair, grabbing a sticky note to write Sierra's number on. I get my phone out of my pocket and put her in my contacts list.

Then I start on my report.

A paragraph into my hopefully highly detailed report—omitting the parts where I screwed up—I get a buzz on the intercom. I like when that happens, even though it's rare. It makes me feel all important. Which I'm sorta not. But still.

"Elena, here."

"Come to my office."

I stare at the intercom, not quite sure the voice that is coming out of it is Rufus ShinRa's.

"Excuse me sir?"

"Come to my office," the president repeats. His tone is always calm, so it is hard to tell what this could be about, either way, my heart thuds against my chest.

"What?" I stared at the intercom, certain it had grown two heads in the past minute. What did I do? Does he know the truth about our assignment? That we made it escalate further than it should've? How can he possibly know that so fast? Reno and Rude haven't written up a report, Tseng knows nothing, and I sure didn't tell him.

I haven't heard from him or seen him since our night in the rain. I figured he'd forgotten about me. I'd been working pretty hard to forget about him and focus on my work.

This is work related, surely. Of course it is. Why wouldn't it be?

"I'll see you in ten minutes, Elena."

"Yes sir," I say, my mouth going dry. I sit there a little longer, expecting to hear him speak again, but nothing more comes from the intercom. I guess I better make my way up there.

I make my way to the nearest elevator, not thinking too much about how they make me sick, because I'm nervous for a whole other reason. I lean against the wall, eyes tightly closed during the elevator rides.

When I reach the 70th floor, I can feel Chaminade's eyes following my repetitive path across the floor in front of her desk. She says nothing, but the phones in her hand haven't moved, and I can vaguely hear the callers asking if she is still there.

"What are you doing up here?" she finally asks, hanging up both phones.

I stop pacing, take a deep breath, and try to smile at her. "Hi, how are you?"

Does she realize I'm not actually going to tell her why I'm up here because I don't know? But then again she wouldn't know that because she can't read my mind.

"I'm busy, so what are you doing up here?" she asks with a flat-eyed stare. I don't think she likes me very much. Who can blame her?

"The president called me up here," I say, trying to seem nonchalant.

She perks up and rests her chin on her hands. "He did? Why?" She twirls a pen around her fingers over and over and looks at me. I suddenly feel like I'm being interrogated. Isn't that my job? Not hers?

"I have no idea. Stop asking and just tell him I'm here as he requested."

There is silence. She frowns slightly and seems to have a conflict going on in her head. Finally she shrugs and presses a button with a sigh, tucking a loose strand from her messy bun behind her ear.

"Sir?"

"What is it?" Rufus' voice fills the room. His tone is sharp and has an edge to it. Suddenly I feel sorry for Chaminade. I'm sure she flinches every time she has to interrupt him from whatever he's doing in his office.

"Someone is here to see you." She says, looking up at me while drumming her nails across the black glass surface of her desk.

There is a significant pause.

"Good. Send her up."

"Of course, sir," she says, ending the connection and picking up the phone. "I'll pull out the tissues."

"What?" I stop and look back at her. An odd smile is on her face; it's hard to call it a smile because it is so weird. It is more of a frown with a smile hastily thrown in for good measure.

"For when he fires you. This is the second time you've been up to his office in the past few weeks, must be a reason behind it. Are you not performing well? He threatened to fire me yesterday actually...just because I fell asleep...on the job." She finishes her little confession by poking out her bottom lip in mock sorrow. "I was tired. Just because he's a robot doesn't mean we all are."

"He is not going to fire me." I shake my head. "But yeah, you should handle that falling asleep thing... people don't like that." I wave at her and try to seem calm, cool and collected.

There's a long hallway separating Chaminade's station and the door to Rufus' office. In the steps it takes for me to reach it, my heart rate increases to the point where I practically feel it in my throat. When I reach his door, I suck in a copious amounts of air and knock. The door opens before I can knock again, and I push past it and enter the office of Rufus ShinRa for the second time.

"Sir?"

My eyes fall on his desk, which is clear and clean as usual. Not even a paper clip is out of place. Rufus stands at the window looking out over the city. I hesitate before crossing the threshold. My heels clack against the floor. The door closes behind me.

He turns around, walking smoothly behind his desk, but not sitting. He stands, resting his hands on the back of his chair. He doesn't say a word for a moment; he just watches me. I shift from foot to foot. "Sir? You wanted to see me?"

"Yes, come closer. I don't bite."

"Unless asked," I finish for him, barely able to stop myself. All the while, obeying his request, bringing myself up to the three chairs on my side of the desk.

Rufus chuckles softly at my quip. He gestures for me to sit. I pull out a chair and sit, resting my sweaty palms against my thighs.

He moves from behind the desk, instead sitting on the edge of the desk directly to my left, angling himself towards me.

Rufus is so close I can see the detailing of his suit. The silk slightly off-white stripes in the cream-colored fabric. It probably costs more than my apartment. He rests one hand on the desk, and the minimalist sunlight glints off his sleek, black watch. One of those watches with without single number on the face. It just has silver marks to represent each number.

"So, Elena...I'm thinking..." He's angled towards me, leaning forward ever so slightly. A lock of that beautiful hair falls into his face. I fight the urge to reach up and move it. He pauses, just tracing me with his eyes and doesn't say a thing.

"Yes, sir?"

"I'll get right to it. I want to take you out to dinner Friday."

"I'm sorry, what?" Suddenly, it is as if a fog has clouded my mind. Up is down, down is up, right is left and left is what the heck did he just say? What does dinner mean?

"Dinner. Friday," he says, a slight smirk on his lips.

I look away, to my lap, the window, the desk, the ceiling. I should leave. I should definitely leave.

"Is this like a...business meeting type...dinner? I have to say, if it is, I am very flattered sir. I'll have to get a nice dress or something though, I don't actually own one...at least not one that I can still fit. I think the last time I dressed up was when I was 16 or something—"

I'm silenced by a simple look from him. It's just a look, his striking, blue-eyed gaze searing into my own. "Elena, relax. It's just a simple question."

I find my voice. "Sir, with all due respect, that is not just a simple question," I rise up from the chair. "I...I can't go out with you, sir. That would be incredibly inappropriate, and it is probably against like 100 unwritten rules—"

"Elena, if you're worried about breaking rules, that doesn't matter."

"Why not?"

Rufus smirks and remains leaning against the desk, casually observing me. "Because I'm Rufus ShinRa."

Well la dee dah.

"So it's as simple as that? You're Rufus ShinRa and that's that?"

"Quite."

"What about what I want?" I counter. Maybe I'm going a little far here, but he's already gone too far by even asking me, his employee, out on a date in the first place. Our professional relationship is in the balance already.

Rufus smirks and observes me from beneath his lashes. "Clearly you want to. We both know what's been going on between us."

I'm floored at his frankness. I open my mouth to protest it, but the words won't come and I stand there hot faced and sweating. He tilts his head to the side slightly and looks right into my eyes. I look away, clear my throat and look at him again; he looks so damn pleased with himself.

"So is 7:30 good for you?"

"Um...I ….sir...I..." Stupidly, I stammer.

"I'll take that as a yes."

"Fine," I say, swallowing thickly. There's no sense in arguing. I'm already figuring out what to wear, and he knows it.

"And, Elena, if it makes you feel any better. You can pretend it is strictly for business," Rufus says.

Strictly for business. Sure.

"I…is there anything else….sir? Any other reason you asked to see me?" I say, pushing the chair from under the desk and standing.

"No," Rufus says, an easy smirk playing across his lips.

"Okay, sir," I manage, looking away, "have a good day."

Somehow, I make it to the door and out into the hall.

I think Chaminade calls after me as I pass her office but my mind isn't on her. I jump on the nearest elevator, leaning against the wall, and trying to make sense of what just happened. Did Rufus ShinRa just ask me out? It wasn't just flirting, he actually did it. He asked me out. He asked meout? When the doors open to my floor, I step out and head quickly down the hall to my office.

Just when I think I will make it, Reno comes around the corner, heading toward his office and swinging that long electromagnetic rod around. He has a self-satisfied grin on his face. Oh no, what did he do to Sierra?

For a second I actually believe he'll walk past me without saying anything. Instead, he stops and then halts me as well by holding out a hand.

"Hi, Reno," I shove my hands in my pockets. "What were you doing?"

Reno rolls his eyes with the same amount of innocence as a person caught stealing. "Nothing of course. Where are you coming from?"

"What did you do to Sierra?" I ask, diverting the question back to him.

"Who, me?" Reno grins. "I didn't do anything but escort a fellow ShinRa employee to her destination."

"You're so full of it."

"And so are you. So where were you? You look frazzled," Reno says, placing a so-called concerned hand on my shoulder.

I shrug and move to open my office door. "Nowhere..."

"No. Where?" He says, crossing his arms.

"Am I going to have to force you to move?"

"Last time we had a little tussle, I recall a certain Turk landing on her butt in an elevator," Reno says with an easy grin.

"Try me this time."

"Do I need to put you both in time out?" A new voice has joined the conversation. Tseng is coming down the hall, holding his cell and wearing a slight frown.

"Elena started it," Reno says, not looking away from me.

"Sir, I was just in the president's office."

"Oh?" Tseng seems more interested now. Reno's grin gets bigger.

"He wanted to talk to me about something," I say. A little laugh escapes me, nervous, betraying.

"Oh?" Tseng says again, expectant.

"Yeah. About something."

"Something?" Tseng raises and eyebrow and looks at me hard, his lips in a hard, thin line. He's daring me to break eye contact.

"Nothing really," I say, facing him head-on. "Nothing at all, sir."

I have to get out of this conversation! I know I am not capable of keeping secrets most times and this is a really big one! Though, is it even a secret? I mean, he never said I couldn't tell anyone. Hell, how could I tell anyone if I wasn't even sure what was going on myself?

Tseng frowns slightly in thought and looks at me oddly.

"Well," I say, inching away towards my office. "I better get that information he asked for. You know how the president is. He wants his results now."

"Indeed," Tseng says, still watching me.

"I'm calling bull," Reno says. Tseng seems inclined to agree.

"Well, have a nice evening Tseng, sir. I'm going to take it easy...my head is just…whew." I put my hand to my forehead for emphasis and frown as if I am in pain. "My head is killing me…I'm going to just...medicate myself when I get home and go to sleep."

It isn't a complete lie. I'd had a headache when I got up this morning, but it's gone now. Tseng narrows his eyes at me, and he opens his mouth like he is going to say something but decides not to.

"You should," Tseng says finally. "Go home. Get some sleep. Clear your head."

"Best advice I've heard all day," Reno says and heads down the hall to Rude's office. He walks in without even knocking and leaves me alone with Tseng.

"Good day, sir," I say to him, and I let out a breath and flee into my office.

-oooo-

I'm curled up at one end of my couch, clutching the phone, waiting for Sierra to pick up. On my way home—after I stopped hyperventilating—I came to the conclusion that Sierra would be the best choice to help me pick out something for Friday. We don't know one another well, but the choice is either her or going dress shopping with Reno and Rude. Or Tseng.

The phone rings again. I close my eyes. If she doesn't answer, I'll be forced to shop alone. Once, I almost destroyed three changing rooms just because I was curious to see if I could jump into a pair of jeans instead of putting in one leg at a time.

"Hello?" Sierra's voice answers.

"Hey! I've never been so happy to hear someone's voice." I sit up and try to figure out how to word this without sounding desperate.

"Oh, that's nice," Sierra says. She's barely hiding her confusion about me calling beneath a veil of politeness. "What's up?"

"I kinda have a thing this weekend and was wondering if you'd help me shop for something nice. I know this is kind of out of the blue, but…date stuff..."

"A date, huh?" Sierra says, seeming to perk up. "With who?"

"Err...I can't say."

"Is it Reno?" I can't tell if she's pleased at the thought of it being Reno or not.

"What? No," I say as seriously as possible. "Pretty sure he's got you on his mind."

"We'll see about that," Sierra says, noncommittal, almost to herself instead of to me. "Anyway, I know a nice place where we can shop. Surprisingly, I'm not busy right now. Meet me in fifteen minutes?" She gives me the address.

Plans have been made. There's no going back now. At least, that's what my tell myself.

I can't possibly want this, right? That would be unprofessional.

What am I going to do on a date with Rufus ShinRa?


End file.
